Fight And Flight
by velja
Summary: Patchwork Family' Part Two. 7 years later. Nathan is about to let go of the past when the man who stole Claire is thrown right into his path. Bennet's life is turned upside-down again. Will Claire's dads get along? There may be some issues. Pre-slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Fight And Flight**

(Part Two of the 'Patchwork Family' Series)

_I strong_l_y recomment reading Part One, The Early Years, first or else you won't understand much of this._

**Summary for Part Two: **Nathan is about to let go of the past when fate steps in and throws the man that kidnapped his daughter 7 years ago right into his path. Bennet's life is once again turned upside-down. Will Claire's two Dads get along? There may be some issues, obviously.

* * *

**Chapter One**

_Manhattan, August 1999 _

Nathan Petrelli rapped his knuckles on the wooden door with the number "1407" on it and threw one last look at the small basket balanced on his left arm. He felt a bit stupid, standing there in the hallway with bread, salt and a bottle of wine all stuffed into a cheesy Moses-basket, but… that's what you were supposed to bring as a housewarming gift, wasn't it?

The door in front of him opened and Peter's smiling face appeared behind. "Nathan! Come on in!"

"Hey Pete," Nathan greeted his brother with a big smile. "Ugh, here, for your new home." He held out the basket for Peter to take and stepped over the threshold.

"Thanks," Peter smiled and eyed the gift dubiously.

"You don't have to say it, Pete, I know it's kind of cliché…"

"No, it's great!" Peter assured quickly. "I was looking at the bottle's label. Is this the same sort that we stole from dad's wine cellar the night you got me thoroughly drunk for the first time?"

"You mean after graduation? Sure," Nathan smirked. "I'm nothing if not traditional, right?"

"If that's a family tradition then I'll gladly follow through with it. Celebrating each new period of my life by getting drunk with my big brother."

Peter motioned for Nathan to follow him into the kitchen and placed the basket onto the counter. Then he started rummaging through several drawers and Nathan had time to fully take in his surroundings.

He'd never quite understood why Peter had refused to live in a dorm on campus like every other nineteen-year-old student but instead had scraped up every single one of his self-earned pennies to rent a place on his own. But… to each his own, right?

Nathan let his eyes wander over the place. He'd never picture something like this for himself but… it suited Peter. The apartment was small but clean and very homey. He had to admit that Peter had done a great job decorating the place with a mixture of nice furniture, practical things and personal objects alike.

And Nathan could clearly single out the parts and places Peter had put the most care in to make himself feel at home. Many personal pictures decorated the board that ran along both sides of a cozy fireplace, mostly pictures of the two of them taken over the years. Some showed them framed together and in others Nathan or Peter smiled separately into the camera. Nathan also noticed that, while their mother was captured in several frames as well, there was only one picture that had their father in it. He thought briefly of commenting on that but then simply shrugged it off.

Peter had good reasons for it after all. Arthur Petrelli had never made a secret of the fact that what he felt for his younger son was mostly disappointment. Nathan had always been the one he'd been proud of, whether he'd deserved that or not.

But, much to Nathan's amazement, Peter had never held their father's unjust preference of his eldest son against him, quite the contrary. Peter's support, acceptance and love had always been unconditional, and for that Nathan had to be more than grateful. He knew that he hadn't always deserved it, since he'd not rarely lashed out in his frustration to the one person that had tried to help him deal with everything.

"There you are!" Peter's triumphant voice pulled Nathan back to the present and he turned around to see Peter waving a corkscrew around in victory.

"Well then, let the celebrations begin," Nathan proclaimed with a grin and picked up the two glasses that conveniently stood in reach. "You're not expecting anybody else?" he asked as an afterthought.

Peter shook his head and long bangs of dark hair fell into his mature face. He unconsciously stroked them back behind his right ear, a gesture so familiar to Nathan that it didn't register on his mind anymore.

"No, I told the others the party would be tomorrow. This very first night in my own apartment is for you and me alone," the younger man grinned.

"How romantic," Nathan commented dryly and walked over to the plush couch that dominated the living area. He plopped down into it and added: "Too bad I'm spoken for already!"

Peter turned around in a flash and gasped: "You're what?"

"I've decided to propose to Heidi," Nathan admitted quietly. "Next weekend."

"Seriously?" Peter sat down beside his brother and stared at him with wide eyes. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" Nathan stood up and started pacing. His right hand rubbed along the back of his neck in a display of agitation Peter had come to regard as very familiar. Eventually Nathan spoke again: "I've been going out with her for months now and, Peter, let's face it, I'm not getting any younger."

Peter let out a quick snort.

"Pete, I'm turning thirty soon and," he shrugged helplessly, "I think it's time to settle down and start a new life, you know… finally letting go of the past, building a family of my own… what's so wrong with that?" Nathan stared at his little brother with a desperate look from dark eyes that seemed to silently beg for understanding and encouragement.

"Do you love her?" Peter asked eventually. When Nathan didn't answer right away Peter went on: "I mean, don't get me wrong, Nathan, I like her, but… do you really want to commit yourself to her for the rest of your life?"

Nathan looked up with a cool glint in his eyes. "Pete, I have at least a dozen colleagues specialized in divorce-rights, so…"

"Now that's just typical of you!" Peter jumped up from the couch as well. "You're not even married yet and talking about divorce already!"

"I didn't mean it like that, Pete, and you know it. But you with your idealistic view of the world, of course you'd see a marriage as a guarantee for a happily-ever-after. Wake up, Pete! The world doesn't work like that. You have to stop seeing everything through rose-colored-glasses and finally start to accept things the way they are. I don't know if I will be happily married for the rest of my life, but that's not the point. The point is that my life… Pete, I feel like I've been going through the motions my entire life! I did what was expected of me by my family, well, by dad mostly…"

"Yeah, right!" Peter snorted. "Like you didn't do it for your own profit! I mean, come on, Nathan! You like that you're all successful and important, the good son, remember?"

Nathan looked at Peter through hooded eyes, his long dark lashes nearly covering the hazel glint. "Maybe," he admitted then. "But… I don't know, Pete. The job, the image… that's one thing. What about the rest?"

Peter only stared at Nathan in silence. It wasn't often that his big brother admitted this, admitted that he was more than the stuffed law-suit everybody else saw. Peter knew of course, he knew Nathan like nobody else.

When Peter didn't say anything Nathan went on: "I feel like there's something… a part of me, missing. Or, that I'm missing out on something, I don't know."

"Claire."

The one word was enough to make Nathan's eyes glimmer nearly gold. "Don't start again, Pete. I'm not talking about… that."

"No?" Peter shot back. "Well then what **are** you talking about? Missing something in your life… Nathan, she was taken from you seven years ago and you don't even know if she's still alive and…"

"Peter,"

"No, Nathan! Don't 'Peter' me! You can fool everybody else with your stuck-up-I-don't-care-about-anybody-else-attitude. But you don't fool me, Nathan! I'm your brother and I know you. I know that you care about what happened and…"

"And what good did it do me?" Nathan's face was only inches away and Peter could see the emotions flicker through his eyes like flashes of light. "I held on to the only spark of hope I had for seven years. That she survived the fire and is out there somewhere! I tried everything to find out the truth about Claire and for what? I'm no closer to finding her now than I was when that fucking son of a bitch threatened to shoot your head off! And it has to stop, Pete! I can't go on like that. I will never find her and I'm tired of holding on all this time! I'm tired, Peter! I have to finally start moving on. Can't you understand?" Nathan stopped his tirade and took a shaky intake of breath. Then he sat down again and buried his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

Peter studied his brother for a long time before he walked up to him and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. Nathan's head went up. "Don't you understand?" he repeated quietly.

"I'm sorry, Nathan," was all Peter had to say. He pulled his big brother close and placed a tender kiss onto his hair. "I'm sorry."

Then he went and quickly filled their glasses with red wine. He handed one to Nathan and lifted his own up for a toast. "To the new periods of our lives, whether they begin with committing ourselves to new places…" he waved his glass around to encompass their surroundings, "…or new people. May it result in happiness for the both of us, together forever."

"Hear hear," Nathan smiled and lifted the wineglass to his lips.

How were they to know then that Peter's words would come true soon enough, and in about every sense of the word. Just not in any way they'd ever suspect it.

* * *

_Prescott, Arizona, August 1999_

The phone rang three times before it was picked up and a breathless child's voice answered. "Hello?"

"Happy birthday, Claire-Bear!"

"Uncle Claude!" Claire cried in joy, "Hi! Where are… I mean…thanks!"

Claude had to smile at the young girl's display of perfect manners. Bennet had taught her well in the last seven years, that much was clear. "You're welcome, pumpkin! So…" Claude paused dramatically, "How is my favorite girl, hm? All grown-up and lady-like?"

The girl's bubbling laughter was like music in his ears. "No, not yet. I'm only nine today, not ninety!"

"You'd better not," Claude gave back amused. "Cause that would make me a real old chap!"

"You're not old, Uncle Claude, just…" Claire searched for the right words and relented then: "Well, only a little bit. Like Daddy."

"Thanks a lot, you! But, speaking of," Claude turned serious again, "where is that old Dad of yours?"

"He had to drive Mrs. Steiner to, ugh… I don't remember where," Claire explained, "but he has to be back at three because I'm having a big birthday party then. Tammy and Jonah are already here and later Lilly, Melissa, Cassy, Simon and Chris from school are coming and also Vicky and Emma-Jane from flute-class…"

"Sounds like a big party alright, pumpkin!" Claude grinned at the little girl's enthusiasm. "Save me a piece of cake, will you?"

"You're not coming?" Claire's voice faltered immediately.

"I'm sorry, princess, but…"

"But you promised," Claire pouted. "You said when you couldn't come on 4th of July that we'd have fireworks for my birthday! You promised!"

"I know, Claire-Bear, and I'm sorry, but… you know how bloody complicated it is."

"No, I don't!" Claire moped. "You never tell me anything! Why is everything always so complicated?"

Claude remained silent. He hated to do this to her. He hated that he'd had to make excuses so many times, all the lies and half-truths he'd been forced to tell her over the years. God only knew how Noah had to feel in all this, lying to his daughter and keeping things from her constantly.

But it had been absolutely necessary or else none of them would have lived this long. Not Bennet, being on the run with Claire for seven years straight, and not himself under close surveillance by the company he still pretended to work for while spying and secretly working to bring that place down. Claude knew that by helping Noah escape and keeping his whereabouts secret he'd chosen to walk a pretty fine and dangerous line.

All those years that he'd now lived in ever-present fear of being found out by his so-called superiors. He was dancing on knife's edge and he had felt it become smaller with every year that had passed. The company was watching his every move, never trusting him completely… and how could they really?

It had been pretty obvious to everyone in the company that, during the 18 months his partnership with Bennet had lasted, they'd formed a bond far beyond a mere business affiliation. They'd become close friends and the entire company had known it. And although nobody had ever been able to dig up any prove, it seemed they all suspected he'd also played a part in killing Thompson all those years ago. They were all waiting for him to make a wrong move, to give information away by mistake.

It had been a close call several times already, and Claude had asked himself many times whether it was truly worth it. What kept him from turning his back on everything? He was the bloody Invisible-Man, he could become undetectable and make a run for it. Nobody would be able to find him ever again! What kept him in this world?

"Uncle Claude? Are you still there?"

And there Claude had his answer, plain and simple. Claire, his little princess, who'd lost the mother not only one but two times already in her young life. Both mothers, biological and surrogate, she'd never had the chance to truly know or even remember. Claude couldn't have let her go through yet another loss.

Just like he hadn't been able to leave his friend Noah, full of misery and grief after Sandra's murder, to take care of a baby (and himself).

"Uncle Claude?" Clair's impatient and slightly worried voice finally pierced through Claude's thoughts.

"Sorry, pumpkin, I spaced out. You were saying?"

He heard Claire take a quick intake of breath before she complained: "You always say everything's too complicated for me to understand, you and Daddy both say that, you know?"

"I'm sorry, princess," Claude felt like a broken record, repeating those words to no end. "When you're old enough your Dad and I will explain, but…"

"Great, that's another thing you both always say. 'When you're old enough…'." Claire tried to mimic her dad's voice when she went on: "When you're older I'll tell you about your mom. And about Texas. And about why Claude can't visit us as much as we'd like and why he can't live with us all the time. And I'll finally explain to you what's with that old blue-striped pajama-top in my closet or why I can't stand the sight of 'Chocolate-Crunch-Ice-Cream' at all." Claire fell back into her own voice again. "Uncle Claude, isn't nine old enough to understand at least some of these things?"

Claude let out a sigh. It wasn't his decision to define the right time for finally explaining things to this smart girl, but if it had been up to him he would have started trusting her a bit more by revealing certain facts about their lives. She was one of the cleverest girls in her class after all, and the truth about Noah being 'only' her surrogate Daddy she'd stomached well enough.

But he knew it wasn't for him to decide and Claude said so eventually. "Your Dad will have the last word on this one and you know it, young lady!"

Claire harrumphed in frustration and Claude quickly tried to steer the conversation back into more shallow waters. "So, tell me, princess. What did you get for your birthday? The pony you always wanted and kept nagging me about every time we spoke?"

"No!" Claire's pout sounded no less strong than before.

"What then?" Claude prompted.

"Dad got me a dog, finally. He said that I should probably start taking care of something a little smaller than a pony." The small girl's mood lightened up considerably with every word she said. "Something that wouldn't need a stable and paddock but could sleep in our home and make itself useful by biting thieves' legs."

"Bloody useful, I'd say!" Claude laughed. He could clearly imagine Noah's face stating that.

"His name is Charlie, though he doesn't seem to get that yet. He's still a baby, you know? Lyla gave birth to him and seven brothers and sisters only a few weeks ago and Mr. Steiner said that Charlie needs to stay with his mommy just a little bit longer and then I can take him home," Claire finished her explanations proudly.

"Ah, so he's one of Lyla's then," Claude nodded. He'd been confronted with the dog of Bennet's current employer and landlord several times and one time it had been a bit too close for his liking. The bitch had come chasing after him all along the driveway before someone, probably Mr. Steiner himself, had called her off just in time. Claude had stumbled into the safety of Bennet's cozy home on wobbly legs and completely out of breath and both Noah and Claire had been laughing at him for weeks.

Since then Claude had been more than careful whenever he'd come for a visit and had pulled his trick and stayed invisible until his hands had clasped the doorknob.

'The doorknob to Safety' he'd often called it in his head, and not just because of the bloody dog.

No, the house that the Steiner's had provided for their right-hand-man, Noah Bennet, and his daughter had become the most safest place in the world for Claude. For nearly five years now, ever since Bennet had begun to work and live (and hide) on the Steiner's spacious grounds, Claude had felt truly at home only there. His small flat in Odessa, Texas had no meaning to him at all and neither had any other place the company would send him to.

Claude's true home was with Noah and Claire, a house in Prescott, Arizona. And sadly enough, at the same time that was the one place in the world he dared to visit only a few days per year. His last visit had been so bloody long ago already, he realized with a sudden pang of guilt, that he would have no idea what his Claire-Bear looked like now if Noah wouldn't sent pictures regularly. It had been two years exactly, the day of her seventh birthday, that he'd last seen her for real. Bloody hell, life was bloody cruel sometimes, wasn't it?

A loud crash suddenly vibrated through the phone line and for a second Claude's heart stopped dead, sure that something bad had happened to Claire. Then he heard her voice, shocked but unharmed.

"Oh damn, dad's gonna be so mad at me!"

"What happened, Claire?" Claude asked quickly.

"Oh nothing, Jonah here just smashed the vase Mrs. Steiner gave dad for his last birthday and now he and Tammy are arguing about who did it and who's to clean up the mess," Claire explained hastily. Claude could hear different voices shouting in the background. Claire tried to shush them but, apparently, had not much luck. She turned to Claude again, apologetic: "Sorry, but I gotta go, Uncle Claude, before they trash something else."

"Sure thing, princess," Claude smiled, "go and tear their heads off, will you?"

"Yep, I will, you can count on that. Daddy liked that vase, though I really don't know why, it was ugly. Ugh, okay. We'll talk again later, promise?"

"Promise!" Claude replied and meant it. He would call again later tonight, he needed to talk to Noah anyway. When Claire was just about to hang up Claude threw in quickly: "Oh, and Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"I promise that I'll talk to your dad about trusting you a bit more with things, okay?"

Claire hesitated slightly. "Do you mean things like broken vases on wild birthday parties, or…"

"Or," Claude simply answered.

"Thanks," Claire beamed. "You're the best uncle I have, and I'm not just saying that because you're my only one!"

"Yeah, right you are," Claude laughed. "Bye, princess! We'll talk soon."

"Bye!"

* * *

Noah Bennet steered the Steiner's black limousine along the driveway, past extensive grounds full of green lawn framed by giant oak trees and also past his own small but comfortable house, until he reached the impressive mansion his employers owned.

He stepped out and quickly opened the back door for Elisabeth Steiner to get out.

"Thanks, Bennet," the elegant woman in her early-sixties nodded and preceded him to the limousine's backside. But when Bennet moved to open the trunk she halted his arm and shook her head. "Oh, come on, never mind, I can get the bags myself. You should rush home, dear, I'm sure Claire's already waiting for you so that her big party can eventually start."

"You sure? I could…"

"No, no, dear. Go on, I can take care of it."

"Alright, Mrs. Steiner, thank you." Bennet smiled down into her gentle face, the beauty of which belied the woman's slightly advanced years. She looked far closer to fifty than sixty.

"Now, Bennet," Mrs. Steiner's voice turned reproachful. "How many times in the last five years have I asked you to call me Lizzy already?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Steiner," Bennet smirked. "Four or five hundred times?"

"And how many times must I yet repeat myself until you'll finally follow through with it?" The wicked gleam in her green eyes took the sting out of that reproach.

"You'll never know, Mrs. Steiner." Bennet teased her as he'd done so many times before.

She shook her dark-haired head in defeat, playfully slapped his arm and motioned for him to go already. Bennet turned around, smiling genuinely, and started walking down the graveled driveway but then Mrs. Steiner's voice made him stop again.

"Oh, Bennet, I didn't tell you yet…"

"Yes?" he turned around and immediately had to squint into the bright summer's sun.

"I just remembered, our little girl is coming for a visit this weekend, and…" she paused dramatically. "She said she'd bring a man with her this time!"

"Really?" Bennet looked surprised. Now that were news indeed!

The Steiner's twenty-five-year-old daughter had been living away from home for several years now, since before Bennet had started working for the family. But of course he knew her well enough from countless visits. She was studying in New York, something to do with art or history or probably both. Bennet had never cared much to remember what it was exactly.

But in all those years he'd never seen her bring someone home with her. So this man now had to be someone special, right?

"Yes, and she seems pretty serious about him," Mrs. Steiner's voice sounded equally amused and worried. Just like any good and loving mother with a daughter of marriageable age.

"Well," Bennet answered at last, "then I'll make sure to take a very close look on that guy. We don't want her to end up with a villain, do we?"

Mrs. Steiner let out a relieved laugh. "No, God forbid. But I don't think it will come to that. I understand that he's a lawyer from a rich and important family in New York. But, as you know, that doesn't have to mean anything, so…" she shrugged non-committal. "I'm a fairly good judge of character myself, Bennet, and thankfully Heidi inherited some of that from me, so if she likes him he has to be likeable. But there's no harm in being careful, is there? So we're gonna take a close look on him, including you, promise?"

Bennet nodded affirmatively before he smirked: "I'm feeling kind of bad for the guy. I'm sure he's on pins and needles already and now he's gonna be put on the rack by all of us."

"Walter has been busy thinking out a few good questions for him and he's written them all down into one of his neat little questionnaires!" Mrs. Steiner laughed. "Just like he did when you came to work for us, remember?"

"How could I ever forget," Bennet shuddered playfully. "It was like the worst oral exam I ever had to sit through."

"And yet you passed with flying colors, didn't you?" Mrs. Steiner waved him off and started walking up to her house. Bennet turned around as well but he still heard her add: "He's got nothing to worry about, that young man. As long as he shows some basic manners everything should work out fine."

* * *

**TBC**

_Note: I just wanted to mention that I've never been to Arizona and I have no idea what it looks like there. I don't know if there are oak trees and beautiful lawns… So, please don't be mad at me if I screwed it up, it's fiction after all. I doesn't really matter where Bennet lives, does it? As long as it's not Texas…_


	2. Chapter 2

_I blame the totally cheesy first part of this on tonight's lack of sleep. And of course on watching youtube-clips for hours. The song used in here belongs to 'Tenacious D' – and technically doesn't exist to the time the story is set (since it came out in 2006). I also apologize for calling Jack Black's voice something not worthy to write home about, I don't mean to offend anyone. It's the fictional character's opinion._

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter Two**

_Bennet's house, Prescott_

Late in the evening of Claire-Bear's birthday, after several times Claude had only gotten Noah's personal mailbox, he'd finally managed to get the man on the phone for real.

And now a completely drained and tired Noah was complaining to him about his day. Watching over a horde of kids on sugar-high from too much cake obviously wasn't his favorite pastime. Not that Claude could blame him, really.

"Well, and when I had the little monsters contained again, one of them suddenly had to throw up, all over the damn carpet, and…" Noah broke off irritated, disturbed by a sudden noise in the background. "Claude, what the heck is going on behind you? Is that supposed to be music?"

To him it sounded more like an animal you'd quickly want to put out of misery by cutting its throat. Or, more likely, someone else was doing the job already and the terrible sound **was** that of an animal being murdered.

"Hey, don't knock it till you've tried it, mate! I like that song!"

"Really?"

"Yeah," Claude stated vehemently. "Also - It reminds me of you."

"What?" Noah groused. "Why would something that sounds like a strangled dog remind you of me? I assure you that I have a far better voice than that!"

"Shut it, Bennet! I know for sure that you can't hold a tune even if your life would depend on it." Before Noah could protest Claude went on, more serious: "And by the way, I wasn't talking about the sodding voice, I meant the lyrics. They bloody fit, okay?"

"There're lyrics in there somewhere?" Bennet had only been able to make out a terribly high howling so far.

"Here, listen," Claude turned up the volume and put the phone closer to the speakers. "This is what I meant."

And then Noah heard the song start from the beginning and moments later a melancholy voice filled his ear.

"_Dude, I totally miss you,_

_I really fucking miss you,_

_I'm all alone all the time,_

_All the time,_

_Dude, I totally miss you,_

_The things we did together,_

_Where have you gone?"_

"_I totally miss the honesty_

_And special times, and honestly,_

_I totally miss the fucked-up things you do,_

_Dude, I totally miss you,_

_I totally miss you,_

_Dude, I totally miss you,_

_All the time."_

Oh fuck, Noah thought with a heavy gulp. It wasn't often that his emotions got the better of him, he'd long ago learned to cut himself off from that. But now his throat was closing up tightly, and quicker than he'd ever thought possible. And all because of a stupid song?

He listened closely again. The voice really wasn't anything to write home about, and surely not something to make him all teary and wistful in a matter of seconds… No, it was the style of the song that immediately made him picture Claude in all his slack, careless, bloody-fucking-laid-back-nobody's-messing-with-me-attitude. His irritating manner with the constant self-mocking and screwing-with-everybody's-head, his nobody's-breaking-through-that-armor-of-scorn-and-snark…

Claude would never listen to a cheesy love-song and neither would Noah but this…

This was something else entirely. This was completely over-the-top and hilarious and at the same time it hit home with brutal honesty. The words struck Noah's tired mood too close to resist and all he could do was hang on desperately to every word of the song.

"_I totally miss the honesty_

_And special times, and honestly,_

_I totally miss the fucked-up things you do,_

_Dude, I totally miss you,_

_I totally miss you,_

_Dude, I totally miss you,_

_All the time."_

The sound grew fainter again when Claude put the phone back to his ear. "You heard that?" There was no answer on the other end and Claude tried again: "Noah? You still there, my friend?"

Finally Noah cleared his throat and replied, his voice hoarse and barely audible. "Damn it."

Claude let a quick smile wash over his face . He knew he'd get Noah with this.

"Okay, I…" Another quick cough could be heard over the phone. "I admit it. It's… well, it fits. Okay? So are you gonna be a smug bastard about it and say 'I told you so!' with a smirk or are you gonna tell me what it is and where you got it so that I can get it downloaded already?"

"Oh, it's a close toss-up but, Noah my friend?" Claude waited a second before he continued in his most smug smile: "I told you so!"

"Ha ha!" Bennet waited for more mockery to come but Claude remained silent for a while. Noah hoped he was busy typing the link to the song into a text-message.

"You wanna listen some more?" Claude asked after a while.

Noah simply hummed in agreement. The next moment Claude must have put the phone closer to the speakers again for the volume increased detectably. "Hey Rookie?" Claude asked above the noise.

"Yeah?" Claude hadn't used that nickname in years.

"Get comfortable, I put it on repeat."

Noah smiled and lowered his back onto the couch until he was lazily nestled into the cushions. He stretched out his legs, closed his eyes and let the song pull him under again.

And that's exactly how Claire found him the next morning, asleep on the couch with the phone clasped awkwardly to the crook of his neck and a wistful smile on his face.

Claire knew better than wonder about the dried tear-stains on his cheeks, he'd been talking to Uncle Claude last night after all. Uncle Claude was the only person Claire knew that could make you laugh so hard that you'd spill tears, so… the sight of her daddy like this was nothing new.

But still, the little girl wondered briefly if it had really been tears of laughter. Because Uncle Claude was also the only person in the world that could make her dad cry tears of the other kind.

* * *

_Peter's apartment, Manhattan_

When Peter opened his apartment door a few days after his last talk with Nathan he wasn't surprised to find his brother on the other side once again, a rather angry and annoyed expression on his face.

"Okay, Pete," Nathan ground out and stepped past his little brother. "I'm here. What is it?"

"Nathan, I knew you'd come if…"

"If you left seventeen messages on my machine, babbling incoherently like some lunatic?" Nathan thundered and followed Peter to the couch. He grabbed his arm and forced his little brother to turn around. "What is wrong with you, Pete? I mean, come on! My flight's booked and everything's ready. Heidi's waiting for me to pick her up. I have the engagement ring in my pocket and instead of rehearsing my proposal…"

"Yeah, about that," Peter interrupted Nathan and placed a hand onto his shoulder. He forced his brother to sit down and plopped into the seat next to him. "You shouldn't go, Nathan!"

"What?"

"You're not supposed to…"

"Who are you to decide?" Nathan stared back at him and Peter was hard-pressed not to back away. "Peter, we've been over this already!"

"I know, Nathan," Peter tried to remain calm and reasonable though he'd much rather have shouted. But it was important to make Nathan listen to him, to make him understand, so he added calmly: "I'm not saying that you shouldn't propose to Heidi, it's just… don't do it now, okay?

"Why the hell not?"

"I can't explain but… Nathan, the one thing I know for sure is that you're not…"

"What do you mean, the one thing you know?" Nathan frowned. "Peter, what are you talking about?"

Peter sighed and let go of Nathan's shoulder. He leaned back on the couch and briefly rubbed over his tired eyes. "I had one of my dreams again, okay?"

"Oh, please! Not that again!" Nathan groaned and stood up. He'd never quite come round to believe Peter could actually dream about the future, despite the several times he'd come face to face with the truth of it. He simply refused to believe in something so completely unreasonable and he'd thought Peter had come to accept that. He hadn't bugged him with one of his prophetic dreams in months and now suddenly…

"Nathan," Peter had stood up as well and had grabbed his brother's forearms tightly. "I know that you don't believe in those dreams although you've seen them come true more than once. I don't care if you think I'm crazy but… I know what I saw, Nathan! You shouldn't go anywhere this weekend!"

Nathan threw a look at Peter's surprisingly forceful grip on his arms. When had his little brother become so strong? "You're gonna tie me to a chair to make sure of that?"

"If I have to?" Peter replied solemnly. Not that he'd ever do that but he had to make Nathan understand that he was serious about this. The two brothers stared at each other for a while and the silence stretched uncomfortably until Nathan finally closed his eyes with a sigh.

"Okay, Pete! I'm listening."

Peter let go of Nathan's arms and sat down again. Nathan followed suit and braced himself for whatever Peter was gonna tell him next.

"Alright, in my dream…" Peter began slowly, "you and Heidi were driving in a car somewhere. It wasn't your car, so I guess you're gonna rent one."

"Why would I rent a car when mine's doing fine?"

Peter silenced his brother with a glare and went on: "You were somewhere else, not New York. I don't know where but there were less crowded streets and the landscape was full of green and there were giant trees on each side of the road."

"Arizona," Nathan nodded.

Peter blinked surprised. "Arizona? Why would you think it's Arizona?"

"Because I should be on my way to there right now? Visiting Heidi's parents, remember?" Nathan replied.

"Oh," Peter thought about that. "Okay, now that would make sense."

"No, really?" Nathan could be a true pain in the ass with his dry sarcasm. But Peter didn't care right now.

"Yeah, in my dream I saw you holding out a bunch of flowers to another woman and I couldn't for the life of it figure out why you'd do that!" Peter smirked.

"Okay, but…" Nathan shook his head. Something still wasn't adding up in his head. "This still doesn't explain why you'd think I shouldn't go! If this is another attempt to stop me from marrying Heidi…"

"No, Nathan, you can marry her all you like, I don't care! But you shouldn't go anywhere this weekend! I know for sure that if you go then you won't propose to her at all!" Peter exclaimed.

"What? Why the hell not?"

"Because something bad is gonna happen, okay?" Peter looked at him with a weird expression on his face. "I dreamt you'd tell me…"

"Yes?" Nathan hated it when he had to drag every word out of Peter. He always did that to annoy him, he was sure of that. Peter sighed and looked away. "Okay, I know this sounds completely crazy but… in my dream I saw you sitting in a tree, telling me over the phone..."

"Okay, you know what, Pete? You're right, that's completely crazy."

"Nathan,"

"No, Pete!" Nathan stated and held up a hand. "First you say I was holding a bunch of flowers and then I'm suddenly sitting in a tree? Why the heck would I sit in a fucking tree?"

"Well, there's more," Peter softly replied and looked at Nathan with brown eyes full of worry. "You said…"

"What?" Nathan asked impatiently.

"You said to me, in that typical annoyed voice of yours that you're using right now: "I know, Pete! This isn't how I pictured my weekend either! I was planning on proposing to Heidi and now I'm sitting in a fucking tree, working out a plan on how to best commit murder!"

Nathan simply gaped incredulously. This was just great, wasn't it?

When he'd eventually found his voice again Nathan emphasized every single word: "Okay Pete, let me get this straight. In your dream I was visiting Heidi's parents in Arizona, with flowers, an I'd wanted to propose to her and then I'm suddenly sitting in a tree planning how to kill someone?"

"Yes!"

Peter was dead serious about this, Nathan could tell by the look on his little brother's face. His mouth was firmly set and his eyes shone with a determined fire that Nathan had seen a bit too often for his liking. Peter's hero-face! It was moments like this that made Nathan realize once again how young Peter still was. Young and… how very different from the rest of the family (himself included). He was so passionate, always determined to do the right thing, completely selfless, and he put everything and everyone before himself… and he often lost sight of reality on the way.

It had made Nathan wonder many times if there had perhaps been a mix-up in the hospital the day Peter had been born. Because Nathan couldn't understand how his cool and dispassionate parents could ever have managed to produce someone so zealous as Peter. If it weren't for the fact that for a start, Nathan had been there when his mother had given birth to Peter and secondly, the family resemblance was too obvious to be ignored, Nathan would have sworn that his true brother had been exchanged after birth and they'd gotten stuck with Peter instead. For whatever dubious reasons. Probably to make their lives living hell!

Not that he'd ever want to change him back, no. Nathan loved Peter, he truly did, but… sometimes it was just a bit too much dealing with him.

Like now.

Nathan threw a quick look over to Peter, who seemed to be waiting for any kind of reaction. "Alright, Pete! Tell you what," Nathan eventually said. "Don't worry about it, okay? I'll handle it."

Peter was about to protest but Nathan had already stood up and was quickly walking to the door. When he'd opened it he turned around once more, a condescending look in his eyes. "Pete, seriously. Grow up! This saving-people-thing you got going there? It was cute when you were a kid but now… Stop it, alright? Let me handle my problems on my own. You can't save everyone."

When the door fell shut behind him Peter exhaled and shook his head. "I know that I can't save everyone, but I'd rather die trying. Especially when it's you, Nathan!"

* * *

_Bennet's house, Prescott_

"Claire?" Noah called out for his girl when he entered their home on Friday afternoon. The squirming bundle in his arms forced him to close the door with his foot and the sound echoed loudly through the house.

"Claire-Bear!"

His daughter came running down the stairs at once. "Daddy, do you have him?"

She came to a halt in front of him and watched with baited breath when Noah crouched down and let the bundle loose. A tiny sand-colored whelp with floppy ears and paws way too big for his small body tumbled to the ground and tried walking a few steps.

"Oh, you got him!" Claire exclaimed with gleaming eyes. "Hi Charlie, come here, Charlie!"

She got down onto her knees and pulled the small dog into her arms at once. Noah stood up with a smile.

"Okay, I need to go back to the Steiner's to get a few more things for him. Do you think you can handle him on your own for a while?"

"Sure, Daddy!" Claire beamed up at her father. "I'll take good care of him, promise!"

"You better do, Claire-Bear." Noah nodded. "Otherwise he'll have to go back to his mommy for a few more days."

"No! I can handle him, Dad. Don't take him away again. I'll show him where he's gonna sleep, okay?"

"Alright," Noah replied and turned to the front door again. "I'll be right back."

"Okay!"

"And Claire?" Noah's voice turned serious. "Don't feed him anything while I'm gone. I'm not sure his stomach can handle sweets and cake already and I don't want to have to clean the carpet of dog vomit later!"

"No, Daddy, I won't, promise!" Claire shook her blond locks vehemently. Then she stood up and took the whelp with her. "Look Charlie, this is your new home! Let's take a look at the kitchen, yeah?"

Noah watched her disappear behind the counter before he made his way back outside.

After the short walk along the graveled driveway to the Steiner's house he noticed a foreign car was parked right outside. Oh right, Heidi had arrived already, he'd seen her earlier from the far side of the garden where he'd been busy fixing a small hole in the fence.

Noah had also gotten a small glimpse of the mysterious friend she'd brought along. But the distance had been too big to notice anything besides dark hair and an average height.

He entered the house through the side entrance and followed the small hallway to the kitchen. Mrs. Steiner had promised to place a few things for Claire's new puppy on the counter so that he could fetch them without having to disturb the family reunion (and he sure as hell wouldn't want to intrude on the oral exam the poor man had to be put though by now! Mr. Steiner and his trademark questionnaires were legendary).

But when Noah entered the kitchen he met Mrs. Steiner there. She was busy making coffee and turned around at the sound.

"Oh, Bennet," Mrs. Steiner smiled pleased. "Good that you're here. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course,"

"Well then, come along dear. Heidi has been dying to introduce you to her boyfriend already. Oh, and of course she also wants to say hello to you."

Bennet smiled and followed Mrs. Steiner into the living room. There he saw Mr. Steiner sitting on the couch with a conspicuous sheet of paper on his knees. Heidi and her friend were seated next to each other on the loveseat opposite from him, their backs facing the room. Their shoulders were nearly touching and they were probably holding hands.

Bennet allowed himself a quick grin. So the interrogations had already begun for the poor fellow! Well then, maybe a break would be welcomed.

Mrs. Steiner walked up to the couple and leaned over their backs.

"Honey," she addressed her daughter fondly, "Bennet is here!"

"Oh," Heidi beamed and jumped up from the couch. She walked over to where Noah had come to stand and clasped his hand. "Hello Bennet!"

"Heidi, it's nice to see you again!" Noah replied with a smile. He'd always liked the young woman. She'd turned around to her friend again.

"Nathan, come on over, I'd like for you to meet Bennet. He's dad's right-hand-man in everything."

The young man stood up when Heidi beckoned him closer and she said to Noah: "Bennet, this is Nathan Petrelli."

But whatever Heidi said next, it didn't register on Noah's mind. He stared down at the man and…

Nathan Petrelli had changed a great deal, his subconscious registered at once. It took only seconds for his brain to take in the man's form and compare it to what he remembered about him.

While Petrelli had already been past the stage of young adultery when they'd met for the first and only time there had still been something young and decidedly boyish in his appearance.

It was gone now.

Gone was the casual jeans-and-sweater-look, it had been replaced by a well-tailored midnight blue suit that screamed lawyer in all directions.

In complete contrast to the formal attire stood his face and hair though. The short-cropped army-like hairstyle he'd worn seven years ago had disappeared. Instead Petrelli had let his hair grow out some. Dark strands now fell in tousled waves down to shortly above his ears and covered most of his forehead. It let the longish face appear more full and even and at the same time drew attention to his sharp-angled jaw somehow.

He looked elegant, sophisticated and… mature somehow.

Nothing like the young hothead Noah remembered threatening him with a piece of charred wood in desperate protection of his little brother.

And yet…

In the second it took for Petrelli to equally recognize him Noah saw the sharp features change immediately from indifferent politeness to first surprise, shock and then finally…

Petrelli's hazel eyes darkened visibly.

"You!" he spat and his pupils gleamed up in hatred.

Nathan Petrelli went from representing the picture-perfect future son-in-law to something else entirely. In the blink of an eye he turned into the embodiment of deadly anger.

And this anger unleashed itself in a nearly inhuman cry when he suddenly propelled forward like a lightning flash. He grabbed Noah by the throat, hurled him into the next best wall with the force of his entire weight and then a fist like steel slammed into Noah's face with brutal abandon.

Noah was, perhaps for the first time in years, caught off guard. And, he had to admit, he was more than a little impressed by the man who'd managed it.

And also, after a second blow to his head, out cold.

**TBC**

_Please, I really need some feedback on this one. It only takes you a second to tell me what you think. Don't be shy._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**

* * *

  
**

Noah tried to pry his eyes open and sit up but then a sharp pain in his head told him that lying back down was probably the better alternative for now. He let out a groan and felt the back of his head cautiously. He could feel a big lump forming there. He must have hit the wall pretty hard when Petrelli...

Oh God!

Noah's eyes shot open at once when everything came back to him in a heartbeat. Petrelli! He'd found him…

"Careful, Bennet!" a female voice shushed him and soft hands tried to steer him back down onto…

Bennet took a quick look around. He was lying on a plush couch in the Steiner's living room and Heidi was currently holding a wet washcloth to his left temple. He eyed her suspiciously.

"Where is he?"

"Nathan?" Heidi let out a sigh and a sad shadow fell over her sky blue eyes. "He's gone, Bennet."

"Gone?"

"Daddy threw him out after… after he attacked you so viciously."

Bennet sat up cautiously and took the washcloth from Heidi's trembling hands. "Your Dad managed to throw him out? Just like that?"

"We're talking about Dad here, remember? Former champion and quarterback of the Arizona Bears?"

"Right," Bennet nodded (but stopped right away again when the pain in his head increased rapidly). Mr. Steiner had been a professional football-player in his youth and although he was far past his prime and in his sixties now the man could still turn into a force of nature if needed.

Apparently Petrelli's attack had called for it. Bennet was glad for it but… getting thrown out of a house once would certainly not stop Petrelli from coming after him again. Now that he'd found Bennet…

"Is it true?" Heidi's soft question pierced his thoughts and Noah threw a quick look at the young woman's face. "Is it true what Nathan said?"

"What did he say?"

"That you were a criminal and… and a kidnapper. He said you threatened him at gun point one time and… and that you kidnapped his daughter." Heidi's voice was calm but Noah could easily detect the fear in it. Fear of hearing him confirm Petrelli's accusations? Or was it something else? If he denied everything, would this young woman believe him over the man she'd thought she loved?

Bennet closed his eyes briefly and then took hold of Heidi's hand. "No, I never threatened him at gun point," he stated at last. Well, it wasn't a lie, was it? That time he'd aimed his gun at the younger brother instead.

His statement seemed to be enough for Heidi to confirm her worst fears. Nathan Petrelli had very obviously not been the man she'd thought she knew. He'd kept the fact that he had a daughter hidden from her, and he'd come up with such a blatant lie, for God knows what reasons… how could she ever trust him again? How could she trust someone that attacked a total stranger and nearly killed him? No, Heidi thought with a hint of finality, she was probably better off not seeing Nathan ever again.

Bennet could clearly see it in the young woman's sad face, she'd buried all her dreams for a future as Mrs. Nathan Petrelli once and for all. He sighed inwardly and then moved cautiously off the sofa. His legs felt still a bit weak but…

He needed to get home to Claire! He needed to make sure that she was alright and Petrelli hadn't gotten to her already. Bennet didn't know how much Heidi had told the man about him, he didn't know if she'd ever mentioned him and his daughter at all but if she had…

He had to get Claire and leave, now!

On the other hand… if Petrelli didn't know a thing about Claire's whereabouts yet, and if he was waiting outside somewhere… he would lead the man right to her…

It didn't matter, Noah thought determined, he had to make sure that his Claire-Bear was alright.

Bennet took one last look at Heidi still sitting on the couch. "I'm sorry," he said and left without looking back.

* * *

_Peter's apartment, Manhattan_

Peter didn't know whether it had been the dream that had woken him up or the persistent noise of his phone, but it didn't matter, did it? He reached across his bedside table and grabbed the phone.

"Nathan?"

"Peter, I…" Nathan's voice sounded out of breath and agitated. "How did you know it's me?"

"Nathan, what happened?" Peter asked and sat up against the headboard. "Did you… I mean, where are you?"

He could hear Nathan taking a deep intake of breath. "I'm… oh fuck, this is just too crazy!"

"Nathan!"

"You were right, okay? Pete, I'm sitting in a fucking tree outside Heidi's parents and if you don't tell me what to do now then… Pete, I swear to God, I'm so fucking angry right now…"

"Alright, calm down, Nathan!" Peter jumped out of bed and, with the phone clasped awkwardly to his ear, reached for his clothes. He managed to pull his jeans on in a heartbeat. "Tell me what happened, Nathan!"

"You mean you don't know? You told me about this, remember? You said this would happen and now…?"

"Come on, Nathan!" Peter had stepped into his trainers and had found a warm jumper to pull over his head. He took the phone away from his ear for a second and then he heard Nathan speak again:

"I found him, okay? Pete, I found the bastard that took Claire all those years ago!"

"What?" Peter gasped into the phone. "The invisible man? I thought you hadn't…"

"No," Nathan interrupted impatiently. "Not him! I mean the creepy bastard that held his gun to your head! That tall, smug son of a bitch… his name is Bennet, you know?"

"And where…"

"He works for Heidi's parents, believe it or not!" Nathan almost spat out the words.

"And what happened, Nathan?" Peter wanted to know. "What did you do? Did you…?"

"When I recognized him I smashed his head into the nearest wall and… well, and then Heidi's father threw me out of the house before I could do more. So now I'm waiting for him to come out so that I can kill him." Nathan took another deep breath and threw a quick look down to the ground. It wouldn't do to miss the bastard leaving the house now, would it?

"Nathan," Peter hurried to say, "don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"What do you mean, stupid? Pete, I finally found the man that kidnapped my daughter and…"

"I know, Nathan! Just… don't do anything until I'm there, alright?" He'd opened the window of his small apartment and threw a quick look into the night's sky.

"What?" Nathan gasped incredulously. "Peter, you're in New York! What do you think you could do… Peter? Pete!"

Nathan heard a soft thud on the other side while he still waited for his brother to say something. But he got no answer. Peter had already thrown the phone down onto his bed, had jumped out of the window and was now searching his way through the warm night's air to Arizona.

* * *

_The Steiner's Estate, Prescott_

Nathan stared at the dead phone in his hand for a few more seconds until suddenly a sound from somewhere beneath his hiding position drew his attention back to the here and now. He stared through the thick tree branches and noticed a dark form making its way across the lawn in quick and almost silent strides.

Bennet had left the house.

Nathan pocketed his cell and then he took a deep breath. He pushed his body away from the branch he'd been perched on and charged at the man's back in full flying speed.

Noah had been prepared for a possible attack once he'd set foot outside, of course he had. That's why he'd chosen to make his way across the open lawn instead of the driveway after all. Lesser chances for Petrelli to hide on the lawn, in the early evening's plain sight, right?

But Noah hadn't expected the attack to come from above. A fatal miscalculation on his side, he realized at once, when something, someone, came rushing through the air from behind. Before he had time to turn his head Noah felt a body slam into his back and then a pair of arms closed around his chest under his arms, he felt his feet lift up from the ground and…

He was flying up into the evening's sky, supported by nothing but Petrelli's arms around his torso, and the wind rushed through his hair and clothes and…

Noah heard a faint cry above the roaring in his ears and supposed he'd been the one to let it out himself. God, he was flying! Petrelli could fly! He was one of _them _(Well, of course he was! Noah suddenly remembered Thompson's words from long ago: "That family-tree is littered with mentions of _them_!"). If he'd only thought to remember the fact, maybe he would have been able to prevent this.

Suddenly their rapid flight came to a halt.

Petrelli had stopped his rush upwards and now held himself, and Noah with him, suspended in mid-air, shortly beneath the thin white clouds. Noah risked a quick glance down (God, he shouldn't have done that!) and guessed there must be at least a mile of nothing but air between himself and the far away ground.

Instinctively Noah's hands grabbed onto Petrelli's arms around his body and his feet searched for any kind of support. They found Petrelli's legs and quickly hooked themselves around. They must look like the oddest pair of skydivers ever, only without the parachute of course.

"Alright," he heard Petrelli shout at last. Noah craned his neck to look at him and met hazel eyes that glared back furiously. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't drop you right now!"

Noah gulped heavily. "I… God, I have no idea what you…"

He never finished that sentence because the next moment the arms around his torso disappeared and…

"Arrrrghhh!"

Noah Bennet tumbled in free fall through the air. His head went down, his feet came up and then he was spinning uncontrollably around his axis several times. His chest tightened painfully and he couldn't manage to get enough air back into his lungs, his pulse rushed in his ears, his stomach made a painful lurch up into his throat until he could taste the bile…

Oh God, he would die!

And then strong arms were suddenly around him again, they grabbed him and held him firmly. Noah's entire body was pressed up tightly against Petrelli's front and up they flew again, up into the sky.

Noah buried his face under Petrelli's chin, his arms and legs fastened around the flying man's back and thighs once again and Noah hung on for dear life.

Suddenly Petrelli stopped in mid-air again and shook Noah's trembling form. "Alright, once again I ask, and I guess you should think really hard about your answer, you fucking son of a bitch!"

"Oh God, don't drop me again, okay?" Noah shouted terrified and risked a quick glance into the angry man's face.

"Then tell me what I wanna know, Bennet!" Petrelli's voice cut like steel through the thin air. "What the hell did you do to my daughter? Where is she? Is she alive? What…?"

Noah closed his eyes in despair. "She's fine, okay? Claire's fine!" He let his head fall back against the strong chest and tried to get some air back into his lungs.

"Where is she?" Petrelli shook his body once again and Noah could feel the man's racing heartbeat through the thin layers of Petrelli's suit, pumping like mad against his cheek. "Where is she?" Petrelli shouted again.

"Take me down to the ground and I'll tell you everything you wanna know, Petrelli!" Noah looked up into the man's face, the defeat finally visible in his blue eyes.

Petrelli stared at him for a silent second before he jerked his head in a single sign of acceptance and then steered them both through the air again.

Noah clasped his hands more forcefully into the man's suit at his back and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the ground rushing closer and closer, instead he prepared himself for the hard impact that had to follow eventually.

But then he felt Petrelli slow down in speed and moments later the odd pair came to land on a surprisingly soft surface. Both men slithered a few feet across the grassy ground on their sides, instinctively not letting go of each other, until they finally stopped moving.

Noah buried his face in the soft grass underneath and took a few much needed gasps of breath. Every muscle in his body was shaking and he thought he'd never be able to move again.

But then Petrelli pushed himself up on hands and knees and crawled over him. He turned the dazed Noah onto his back, sat down heavily on top of him, and clamped his hands around Noah's unresisting wrists. Then he pulled Noah's hands up over his head and leaned down until their faces were mere inches apart.

"Alright, Bennet!" Petrelli spat and Noah met his fiery gaze with trepidation. He had no strength left to fight this man, every bone in his body was weary and he simply knew when he was defeated.

"Where is Claire? And don't even think about lying or trying to fight me now because, I swear, if you do then…"

"No," Bennet shook his head only once. "I'll tell you all I know, Petrelli, but... get off me, okay?"

"I don't think so," Petrelli smirked and increased his pressure on Bennet's wrists. He simply waited with held breath for Noah to continue.

"Alright," Noah sighed eventually. "Your daughter was given up for adoption. It was arranged by the company I worked for at the time!"

It wasn't a lie, was it? No, Bennet knew that this man, who was Claire's biological father after all, deserved to know at least parts of the truth after all those years. But that didn't mean that he would give up his Claire-Bear any time soon, right? Not without a hell of a fight and not if he could somehow talk his way out of this mess!

He watched all the color drain from Petrelli's face when his words had finally sunken in. "Adoption?" Petrelli repeated slowly. "Why? Why would… is she really alright, Bennet?"

"As far as I know…" Bennet shrugged evasively. "She was when I left her. Look, I can't tell you anything, I just followed the company's orders."

Petrelli's eyes narrowed slightly and he crooked his head to the side. "Okay, so… what company are you talking about? Who's behind all this?"

Noah thought briefly about how much he'd have to reveal to satisfy the man and not give away too much at the same time. Such as… the small fact that **he'd** been the one to adopt Claire.

"Look," he continued and then tried to shift slightly under Petrelli's weight. "Do you think you could at least move a little? You're cutting off my circulation! Besides, what if someone comes along and sees us like this?" His eyes traveled briefly to his sides to take in their surroundings.

It seemed that Petrelli had landed them right in the middle of nowhere, a meadow of some kind. There was nothing but green grass and a few trees to one side. Not a soul to be seen, but… you'd never know, right? A farmer could come along any time.

Noah faced Petrelli again and continued: "I know that you probably couldn't care any less right now but I live around here. I don't want to be caught in such a compromising position. People could easily get the wrong idea, Petrelli."

"What, that I was trying to seduce you instead of killing you?" Petrelli leaned down even further and his lips nearly brushed Bennet's ear when he went on: "You're afraid people could think we were a kissing couple?"

He sat up again and there was a fire burning in his eyes… Noah shivered slightly at the sight of something he couldn't quite determine.

"You're right," Petrelli went on then and Noah had trouble connecting the words with their former topic. What had they been talking about again? "I couldn't care any less. But what I care about is the truth."

He suddenly shifted off Noah and sat next to him on the grass. Noah sat up too and tried to rub some feeling back into his bruised wrists.

"So, what kind of company were you talking about?"

Okay, now that was something Noah had no problems talking about. He allowed himself a relieved sigh and quickly gazed at Petrelli. "It's the company, it doesn't have a name other than that."

"What, you mean like… the government? The church? The mob? What of it?"

"No, nothing like that," Bennet shook his head. "Although… it does show certain similarities to a mobster organization."

"Like kidnapping," Petrelli provided darkly.

"Like killing my wife," Bennet added without a thought. When he realized what he'd just admitted he looked at Petrelli in shock. The man was staring back at him, a certain something once again filling these hazel eyes, something Noah couldn't quite figure out.

"Your…" Petrelli started but Noah cut him off immediately. "I left the company seven years ago and I've been on the run ever since. This is the first time that I've spend more than two years in one and the same place, Petrelli. I can't tell you much at all."

"But you must know something! What does the company do?" Petrelli was persistent. But, Noah thought, at least he wasn't attacking him or threatening to drop him from flight again, so… they were making some progress.

"The company's specialized in finding, evaluating and occasionally eliminating people like you, Petrelli, if they turn out to be a threat to civilization." Bennet finally explained.

"What do you mean, people like me?" Petrelli's eyes had darkened visibly again and he was leaning closer.

"People with special abilities," Bennet clarified. "You can fly, and believe me, Petrelli, although that wasn't a particular happy experience earlier… I've seen much worse."

"Like what?"

"Like…"

The sudden noise of Petrelli's phone stopped Bennet from going on further. He watched the man pull the cell from inside his suit and waited.

"Peter?" The man asked in a suddenly very different voice. "Where are you?"

Bennet could distantly hear another male's voice. The younger brother, if he remembered correctly. "Nathan, I got Heidi's parents' address out of a phone book but they said you left about two hours ago. Where are you, Nathan?"

"I'm…" Petrelli threw a quick look around, eyes traveling over Bennet for a second, before he shrugged. "I don't really know, Pete. Somewhere south of town I guess, on a grass field."

"A meadow," Bennet corrected automatically and he could hear the younger Petrelli's instant question: "Who's that, Nathan?"

"Bennet," Petrelli answered slowly and his face then showed the exact same perplexity Noah could suddenly feel creeping up on him. It was a rather strange situation, wasn't it? Not half an hour ago this man had tried to kill him and here they were now, sitting side by side in the grass and having something that could only be described as a civil conversation.

Strange indeed.

Noah shook his head and tried to zone in on the talk again. But Petrelli had already hung up and was pocketing his phone. Then he stared at Noah with a long silent look.

"So…" he finally sighed.

"So," Noah replied, somewhat at a loss himself. Then he voiced the first thing that came to his mind. "Still very close to your little brother, huh?" Petrelli eyed him curiously, not sure where this was going. "I remember him from… you know, back then. Had me and Claude quite stunned."

"Who's Claude?" Petrelli asked immediately and Noah could have bitten his tongue then! The earlier novelty-experience of flight must have really rattled his brain, he hadn't behaved this stupid in years! He'd become quite sloppy, or so it seemed.

He still thought of an answer when Petrelli suddenly held up a hand. "No, don't say it. He's the invisible man that Peter kept babbling about for months, right?"

Bennet simply nodded. "He was my partner back then. 'One of us, one of _them'_, that's how it's done."

"That's crazy," Petrelli laughed quietly. "Just like this whole fucking day!"

"Tell me about it," Bennet agreed with a smirk. Then both men suddenly froze simultaneously. Fuck, what the hell was happening here? There were talking almost pleasantly, exchanging memories like… like some kind of old friends!

Petrelli let out a quick cough. "Alright, Bennet. Sharing time's over. Tell me where my daughter is. How can I find her?"

'Shit,' Bennet sighed inwardly. And here he'd thought he'd talked his way out of this mess already. Seemed that he'd have to resort to more drastic measures after all. And just when he'd come to think that he could worm his way out of this without having to kill the man.

Quite a shame, wasn't it?

* * *

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

_This chapter turned out way longer than I had planned but… I couldn't help it, there was just so much to tell and I somehow couldn't reach that one final scene I had in mind for a cliffhanger. Sorry!_

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**Chapter Four**

_New York, Central Park West_

The vision hit her in the car, when she and her husband were on their way to visit another business event. Angela Petrelli let out a soft gasp and placed a hand over her eyes briefly. The gesture was enough to make Arthur hesitate in his movements to get out of the limousine.

"Are you alright, Angela?"

"Yes, it's nothing, Arthur," she managed a quick smile and motioned for her husband to go on. "Why don't you go on already? I'll join you in a minute, I have to make a few phone calls first."

Arthur eyed his wife silently for a moment before he decided that it was probably nothing too important. He left the car and looked at Angela through the open door.

"Don't linger too long. Linderman is waiting for us already."

"Yes, yes," Angela sighed and took hold of the limousine's phone. "Linderman is always waiting with something or another. Go on, Arthur."

Arthur closed the door with a nod and Angela watched him enter the building before she dialed her son's number. She took off her golden ear clip and tapped her nails on the door's handle while she waited for Peter to pick up the phone. Eventually she heard a voice on the other side.

"Hi, this is Peter Petrelli. I'm not at home right now but if you leave a message I'll try calling you back sometime in the near future. Thanks!"

"Damn it, Peter!" Angela sighed right into the 'Beep!' and, not bothering with a message, cut the connection. How many times had she (or Nathan) tried to talk her youngest into buying a cell phone already? If Peter would have listened… but, that was the problem with Peter in a nutshell, wasn't it? He never listened.

Angela shifted her slender legs to get more comfortable on the limousine's backseat before she dialed another number. This time she didn't end up with a machine but a perky female's voice.

"Primatech-Paper, Odessa, this is Sandy speaking. How may I help you?"

"Alexander Wilcox, please," Angela wondered briefly since when her calls were directed to a secretary instead of the regional manager's direct line. "This is Angela Petrelli."

"Oh, Mrs. Petrelli," the secretary gushed, "Mr. Wilcox is attending a meeting right now but I could…"

"You'll put me through now, dear, if you value your job at all." Angela's voice held no room for arguments and the secretary seemed to have picked up on that, too. Without another word she led the call through to her boss.

* * *

_Primatech-Paper, Odessa_

Claude was sitting in his usual hiding spot, perched invisibly on the edge of his superior's desk, when the phone in Wilcox's office rang. He watched him pick it up with a sigh.

"Yes?"

"Angela Petrelli," Claude strained his ears at once when he heard the distant familiar voice.

"Mrs. Petrelli," Wilcox replied and straightened up in his chair. "How may I help you today?" Claude scoffed inwardly at the man's demeanor. He was such a wanker! How he'd managed to climb so high in the company's ranks would forever remain a mystery to him. But… Whatever unflattering thoughts Claude may have had next, they disappeared when he heard Mrs. Petrelli's voice again.

"I need you to send a team to Prescott, Arizona, Maple Road, the estate of Walter and Elizabeth Steiner. You'll find a certain former agent turned rogue hiding there."

'Bugger!' Claude thought, alarmed at once.

"You mean Bennet?" Wilcox asked astonished. "How did you find him?"

"Doesn't matter, does it?" Angela waved off. "You'll send a team to bag him, Wilcox, is that clear? No casualties. Bring him and his little charge in, alive and well."

Claude didn't need to hear more. He jumped up from his spot on Wilcox desk and, still invisible of course, made his way over to the door.

Which was firmly closed at the moment!

'Bugger again!' Claude thought desperately. If he left now Wilcox would know that he'd been there and had overheard everything! His cover would be blown completely, all they'd worked for, for seven long years… gone in a matter of seconds… But he needed to warn Noah immediately!

"Oh, sod it!" Claude cursed aloud and turned the doorknob. He heard Wilcox shout something but he was already too far down the corridor to get the words.

Claude ran, his little trick firmly in place, along the halls towards the nearest exit. He rounded a corner and…

And ran smack-faced into two burly security guards, both wearing those damn special goggles and pointing teaser guns at him.

When the double shots hit him simultaneously Claude's last thought before he sank to the floor was: 'Oh bugger, I'm sorry Noah!'

* * *

_Prescott, Arizona_

The late evening was slowly lulling his surroundings in dusk and Peter had watched the shadow of his impatiently pacing self become longer and longer with every minute.

Still no sign of Nathan.

When he'd called his brother earlier Nathan had told him to wait in front of the Steiners estate's front gate.

And that's where he'd been pacing a hole into the cobbled street for more than an hour now.

'Damn it, Nathan! Where are you?' Peter thought and looked up and down the deserted street once more. He could just barely separate the giant oak trees on each side from the night's cloudy air. But suddenly he thought he'd seen a movement to his right. Peter squinted his eyes and tried to glimpse through the dusk.

Someone was definitely coming up the street, on foot.

The young man was about to call out a greeting when he realized that this couldn't be Nathan by any means. First of all, his brother wasn't anywhere near this tall. Nathan was maybe a bit over average height but this man that was now coming up the street seemed to be at least 6'1 in height.

And secondly, Peter realized when the blurry form had come closer, why would Nathan carry a slack body over his shoulder?

Peter scrambled off the road and hid behind a tree. He stuck out his head to watch the stranger and his definitely human back-load walk up to the gate of the Steiner's estate and nearly let out a gasp when he recognized both men at once.

That was the bastard that had kidnapped Claire, Bennet Nathan had called him earlier, and he was carrying an unconscious Nathan on his shoulder!

Peter watched on with held breath. Bennet had opened the gate by now and was easily slipping through the gap. Nathan's limp head banged against the iron bar once and lolled to the side but Bennet didn't seem to care.

'Damn it!' Peter thought and, when Bennet had disappeared from sight, made his way over to the gate. He could see Bennet walking quickly along a small path that seemed to lead not up to the big mansion but somewhere to the right. In the distance Peter could make out a small but well-cared-for house.

Was the bastard living here?

Without another thought Peter lifted his body up into the air and flew over the closed iron gate. He didn't land on the gravel again but kept on following Bennet by flight.

Bennet passed his home without a look and walked on, slightly shifting the weight of Nathan's slack body to get more leverage, until he'd reached a small wooden cabin. Probably a tool-shed, Peter thought and watched the man enter.

He was still trying to decide on his next move when Bennet came out again, sans Nathan this time. Peter heard him lock the door and then Bennet turned around and walked back to his home. Only when he'd vanished inside Peter dared to finally land on the ground again.

He rushed up to the shed and tried the handle. Locked, just like he'd feared, and no key in sight. Peter made his way around to a small window and peered through. It was nearly pitch black inside but he thought he could make out an unmoving lump in one corner.

"Nathan," Peter whispered devastated. He probed the small window and felt it rattle slightly under his touch. He could probably smash it but… wouldn't that alarm Bennet?

He rattled on the wooden frame some more and suddenly he could feel one corner coming loose. Peter looked around on the ground beside him and… there was a sturdy tree branch next to his left foot. He picked it up and quickly stuck it onto the half-loose edge of the window.

The angle was weird but with the right kind of leverage, Peter had to lift up into the air for that but he didn't even notice, and just the right amount of pressure the wooden window frame bowed outside. Peter stemmed against it with all his might and… seconds later a soft crunch was heard and the frame splintered loose. Peter made quick work of getting rid of the broken remains before he swiftly climbed through the window.

"Nathan," he whispered urgently and rushed up to his unmoving brother. He shook the shoulders softly and then felt for a pulse on Nathan's neck. Oh, thank God, it was there, steady if a bit low.

"Nathan, come on! Wake up!" Peter urged again and then suddenly Nathan let out a low groan. Peter hauled his brother into a more comfortable position and carded his hand through the tousled hair repeatedly. There was a big lump forming in the back of his head and Peter felt something sticky on Nathan's left temple. Probably blood.

"Damn it, Nathan! What did the bastard do to you?" Peter growled low in his throat.

Nathan groaned again and then he opened bleary eyes and tried to sit up. He leaned heavily against Peter's chest and cautiously felt up his bruised temple. "Son of a bitch hit me with a branch!" he spat. Then he took a quick look around. "Where are we?"

"A tool-shed in Bennet's yard," Peter supplied quickly. "I watched the bastard bring you in here and I didn't know what to do, so…"

"It's okay, Pete, I…" Nathan grabbed his brother's hand and gave it a good squeeze. "Thanks, for, you know…"

Nathan had trouble expressing his thoughts properly, not something Peter had often witnessed in his usually so elaborate brother.

"It's okay, Nathan," he smiled down into his brother's troubled face. "I'm glad you're alright. More or less…" He took another look on the dried blood that crusted Nathan's temple and tried to clean it up with spit.

"Ouch!" Nathan yelped and pulled his head away. He felt along the bruise once again and then he moved to stand up. Peter got up from the ground as well and put a steadying arm around Nathan.

"Okay, what are we gonna do now?" he asked when he was sure Nathan could manage to stand on his own.

"Now," Nathan growled and walked up to the locked door, "we're gonna get out of here and make the bastard pay for what he did."

Peter watched him exercise a well-placed kick to the shed's door and, sure enough, the old wood cracked under the pressure of Nathan's anger and the door sprang open.

"Come on, Pete," Nathan jerked his head and, without looking back, limped out of the shed and up to Bennet's front door.

Peter followed hastily. "What, Nathan… how are we…?"

He broke off again when Nathan simply ignored him and, with another forceful karate-like kick that Peter had never seen his brother put into effect before, smashed the entrance to Bennet's home.

The bright light of the entrance hall nearly blinded Nathan and he had trouble squinting through it. But after only a second his eyes adjusted and he took a quick look around.

A nice normal staircase led up to the first floor right in front of him and to his right Nathan saw an equally normal kitchen that further down morphed into a living room with comfortable furniture and nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever.

So this was how brutal kidnappers lived these days, huh? In a comfortable and totally ordinary home, all quiet and inconspicuous.

Nathan was about to turn around to Peter who'd not yet entered when a sudden blurry movement to his left made him stop in mid-stride. A tale-telling click accompanied the motion and, sure enough, when Nathan turned his head to the left he was met by the too close-up sight of a silvery gun's barrel pointed directly at his face.

'Shit,' Nathan thought even before his brain managed to process the information of Bennet holding him at gun-point, calm and professional like the very first time seven years ago.

"You should have stayed unconscious just a little while longer, Petrelli," Bennet smirked, obviously completely in his element now. "Then nothing would have happened to you. Now, I'm afraid I'll have to kill you. I'm kind of running out of other, more harmless, options."

"Really," Nathan smirked back though he had now idea where that steady confidence had suddenly come from. Something about this guy simply brought out the shark in him. "Then shoot me, Bennet. Shoot me now and be done with it!"

He saw Bennet unhook the safety barrel of his gun… but nothing else. The shot didn't come but instead Bennet gulped.

And this moment of hesitation, the one second it took for Bennet to make up his mind, was enough for Peter to give up his hiding spot behind the door. He rushed up to Bennet and, with all he had, tackled him to the ground.

At least that's what Peter knew he'd done.

Because neither Nathan nor Bennet seemed to be able to see any of it. Nathan simply heard a rush of air and then he saw Bennet tumble to the side as if hit by something. Or someone, but Nathan couldn't for the life of it figure out what that had been. He stared down onto the scene that enfolded in front of his very eyes, not realizing or comprehending it until…

Until Peter suddenly became visible again, on the ground, wrestling with Bennet. The gun had slithered out of Bennet's grasp when the invisible attack had come and was now lying a few feet away, out of reach for both men on the ground.

But not for Nathan. He ran up to it, picked it up and pointed it at the fighters on the ground in the matter of seconds.

"Stop it," he shouted and both Bennet and Peter froze in their movements, heads turned to Nathan. "Get up, Pete."

His brother did as told and let go of Bennet. The older man eyed the gun pointed at him wearily and then slowly came to his feet as well. He held up his hands in surrender but Nathan wasn't fooled.

He moved closer to Bennet and placed the gun directly onto the man's heaving chest. Bennet took a few steps backwards, almost instinctively, until his back came in contact with the stair's wooden banister and there was nowhere else to go.

"Alright, let's just calm down everyone," Bennet stated calmly but the gun pressed once again against his heart when Nathan moved closer shut him up quickly again. His blue eyes flickered briefly up the stairs in his back, as if he was afraid someone might come downstairs, and Nathan's eyes followed his briefly before he bore his glare into Bennet again.

"Someone up there?"

"No!" Bennet replied a bit too quickly and Nathan simply knew he was lying. He increased the pressure on the gun at the man's chest and Bennet let out a sharp gasp. "No," he repeated, "it's just my dau… my dog," he finished lamely.

Nathan quirked an eyebrow and shared a quick look with Peter before he faced Bennet once again. "You expect me to believe that? Come on, I'm a second away from killing you and all you're worried about is your dog? You should get your priorities sorted, Bennet."

"I love my dog," Bennet simply stated and managed a shoulder-shrug that looked almost casual. The man really had nerves, Nathan had to give him that.

"I'm sure you do," he smirked and then turned to Peter who'd watched the scene with wide eyes and slightly out of breath from his earlier wrestling-match.

"Pete, go upstairs and have a look around."

"What?" Peter gasped. "Nathan, what if he has a wife? And kids? What do you expect me to…"

"Sure, a serial killer with wife and kids," Nathan mocked with a glare at Bennet again.

"I am not a serial killer!" Bennet let out instantly. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd get your facts straight before you accuse me of any crime! **You** broke into **my** house, Petrelli!"

"Yeah, right! After you knocked me out with a tree branch and deposited my body in a tool shed!"

"Well, you lived, didn't you?" Bennet's blue eyes glared right back defiantly. "Also, you knocked me out too, remember? And you dropped me about a mile from the sky, in full flight!"

Nathan took a deep breath and threw Bennet's words right back into his face. "Well, you lived, didn't you? I caught you again! And then we had a nice civilized conversation until you suddenly jumped me and knocked me out cold!"

Peter had watched the exchange incredulously. He couldn't believe it, here those two had threatened each other at gun-point at least once and had beaten each other senseless in deadly seriousness and now they were suddenly arguing about who started it?

Well, enough was enough!

"Guys," the younger man exploded eventually, "shut up, alright?" Both men turned their heads to him at once. "You sound like two kids on a schoolyard!"

"He started it!" Nathan… well, there was no other word for it… Nathan pouted. Peter simply sent him a dark glare and walked closer to his brother. Bennet eyed them silently for now, thank God.

"Nathan, listen to you! You sound like you're twelve! This is completely crazy…"

Nathan took a calming breath before he suddenly cocked an eyebrow. "Now that's a bit rich coming from the man who turned invisible not two minutes ago, don't you think, Pete?"

"Huh? What are you…? Invisible?" Peter gasped shocked.

Bennet's eyes flew from one brother to the other before it suddenly all made sense. "You didn't know that he could do that? You both didn't know?"

"Do what?" Peter exclaimed at the same time that Nathan asked: "You did?"

"Alright, look," Bennet took a step forward and lowered his upraised arms slowly. Nathan was still pointing the gun at him but not as determined as before. Maybe this was his chance to convince the brothers that he wasn't the bad guy they seemed to take him for. Luring them into false security was always done best with information one had and the other needed badly, wasn't it?

Company policy, but still… if it worked…

Bennet faced Nathan with as much innocence as he could muster. "Why don't we move this to somewhere less tight, huh? We could all sit down and have a nice little chat, without anyone holding the other at gun-point, and let this completely unnecessary hostility turn into a nice civilized conversation about your abilities, okay?"

"Right, cause that went so well the last time," Nathan mocked but lowered the gun all the same. "Until you hit me over the head with a fucking tree branch!"

"Nathan," Peter spoke up at last, still looking completely dumb-founded by his brother's earlier accusation of turning invisible somehow. "Maybe we should listen to him, he seems to know a great deal about what we can do and…"

"And you're in the right place if you wanna learn more about your ability, Peter," Bennet smirked inwardly before he added as an afterthought: "It's Peter, right?"

The younger man nodded mutely. Bennet could see the resolve crumble in both brother's eyes and he was sure he could somehow talk them out of trying to kill him again - and out of the house of course. Claire was currently sleeping upstairs and he knew he'd do anything to avoid a confrontation with her biological family.

Nathan finally rubbed a hand through his face and cringed slightly when it came back covered in blood. Now that he thought about it, he could really do with a nice soft chair to sit in, and maybe a band-aid and some aspirin. Or, better yet, some alcohol to dull the pain throbbing through his skull.

"Alright," he sighed at last, "here's how it's gonna be. We're gonna move this to the living room, you and I." He motioned for Bennet to start walking. "And Peter is gonna dig up some bandages and probably an ice-pack from somewhere, okay?"

"Make that two ice-packs," Bennet threw over his shoulder and lifted his hand to touch the still tender bruise in the back of his own head. "The first-aid-kit is in the kitchen, second upper cupboard to the left."

He pointed to said cupboard on his cautious way through the kitchen and, although he didn't turn around, heard Peter rummage through it only a second later. The elder Petrelli was walking close at his back, the gun still raised in his hand.

Bennet plopped down onto the couch and closed his eyes with a sigh. He heard Nathan sit down in an opposite armchair and then Peter joined them. He'd apparently found what he'd been looking for in the kitchen because the next minute Bennet heard some packages being torn open. He opened an eye.

Peter was sitting perched on the armrest to Nathan's right and was currently cleaning the dried blood and grime off his brother's temple. Nathan had his eyes closed.

Bennet grabbed one of the two ice-packs from the table and pressed it to the back of his head, a relieved sigh escaping his lips against his will.

The younger Petrelli turned around once he was finished placing a big band-aid onto his brother's forehead. He looked at him silently. "You should probably have that looked at as well."

"What?" Bennet's hand moved to his eye. It felt a bit tender and bruised but…

"I don't think you're gonna need stitches but… here," Peter smiled tentatively and came over. He held a wet cloth against Bennet's left eye and started wiping it. Bennet noticed crusted blood came off with it as well.

Great!

He took the cloth from Peter's sure and steady hands and shook his head. Getting patched up – and very professionally with great care, Bennet had noticed - by the very same man that had tackled him to the ground not ten minutes ago, now that was something he'd definitely not expected happening any time soon.

When Bennet looked at the elder Petrelli again he noticed a certain gleam in his eyes. Protectiveness or… was that jealousy?

He smirked briefly. "Don't worry, Petrelli. You can have your precious little brother back. I'm not interested in stealing your own personal nursemaid!"

Petrelli's eyes darkened visibly and Peter stood up from his crouched position by his side and glared at him as well. "I'm not his personal nursemaid, you…"

"Pete," Nathan's calm voice cut off whatever Peter had wanted to throw at Bennet. "It's okay, let it go."

Peter let out a huff but otherwise remained silent. He moved over to his brother's side again and sat down in a second armchair.

"Alright, Bennet," Nathan addressed him eventually. "You knew that Peter could turn invisible, did you?"

"Yes."

"How? How's such a thing even possible?" Peter threw in. "I didn't do anything… I mean, how…"

"You did it once before, remember?" Bennet eyed the younger man patiently. "That day, when Claude… that's the invisible man who was with me… that day you were the only one who could see him. And you absorbed his power somehow. We figured you must be some sort of…" Bennet smiled wistfully all of a sudden. "Ability-magnet, I believe that's what he called you."

"Okay, you know what?" Peter frowned and stood up. "I don't get it. I have no idea what you're talking about."

Bennet sighed and threw a look at Nathan. Then he stood up. "Okay, why don't you fill him in on what I've told you already and I'll get us some drinks in the meantime?"

"No tricks, Bennet!" Petrelli raised the gun at once. "Or else…"

Bennet stayed in view of them for the entire time it took him to fetch a bottle of whiskey and three tumblers from the nearby bar. He wouldn't think of trying anything now, and not just because he knew the gun was raised at him the entire time. No, he realized suddenly that he really wanted to help these men understand their abilities, though he wasn't sure why.

Maybe they deserved a bit of the truth after all, or maybe he'd really become sloppy after all this time, Bennet didn't know. And he didn't care.

Besides, he could really use a drink right now, and so could they he assumed.

If it weren't for the fact that these men were determined to take his Claire-Bear from him… he could easily come to like these two.

Bennet shook his head. Was he really that starved of company that he'd welcome interaction with any kind of a human being, even with people that should count as enemies? He was truly getting soft. Bennet returned to the couch with the drinks in hand and placed them in front of the two brothers wordlessly.

"Okay, so this company," Peter was busy recapping Nathan's words, "it abducts people like us, people with abilities. It studies them, traces them and then kills the most dangerous ones? Is that what you're saying?"

"Roughly, yes," Bennet nodded.

"And you worked for them?" Peter continued and got another silent nod in reply. "Did it at least pay well?"

'Wow,' Nathan thought surprised. Peter must be very angry, flippant comments like that usually never left his mouth. That was more Nathan's part. "Pete…"

"No, Nathan… I mean," Peter started pacing through the room. "I really hope he got a nice paycheck for abducting people, drugging them with God-knows-what and completely ruining their lives!"

"Hey, look," Bennet tried to explain. "I didn't…"

"Well, you certainly ruined our lives, right Nathan?" Peter shouted.

Great, now they were back on the kidnapping-a-child-trip again. Bennet tried to steer the conversation back to less explosive grounds. "Peter, not everyone adjusts well to these abilities and some of them are quite dangerous. I knew a young man that could flay a human being alive by a mere touch! You really think I should have let him loose on the world?"

Peter stared at Bennet in complete shock. "I… I saw that, once."

"What?" Bennet stared right back at him.

"Years ago, I remember, in one of my prophetic dreams I saw a man being flayed alive… Nathan, remember that night?"

"Sure I do, Pete! How could I forget…"

Peter plopped down into the armchair again and raised the tumbler of whiskey to his mouth. He downed a big mouthful and then started coughing instantly.

Bennet eyed him, lost deeply in thought. So the boy had the ability to dream about… the future? The present? It didn't matter, did it?

"What else can you do, Peter?" Bennet asked, truly curious, after a while. "Assuming you can fly like your brother, you turn invisible and now there's those dreams… what other powers have you absorbed?"

"I don't know," Peter replied. "I didn't even know about the whole invisibility thing, did I?"

"Now, wait a minute," Nathan suddenly cut in. He'd mostly stared from one man to the other but now he needed to set a few things straight. "So you're saying that he somehow absorbs the abilities of others?"

"I thought we'd already covered that part!" Bennet flipped him a raised eyebrow but went on under Nathan's strong glare. "Yes, he absorbs other's abilities. You can fly, so he can fly. The invisibility he obviously picked up from Claude that day. And those dreams… I don't know who he got that from but…"

"Mom," Peter threw in quietly.

"What?"

"Mom," Peter replied, "she has those dreams too. Visions."

"Now that explains a few things at last," Bennet frowned into his whiskey. "I always wondered how she seemed to know everything that was going on."

Nathan, who had been about to say something to Peter, whipped around his head and faced Bennet instead. "You know our mother?"

"I… yes, I met her once." Bennet admitted after a second.

"Now that's just great!" Nathan couldn't believe it. "Don't tell me, she's part of that fucking company as well, right?"

Bennet nodded slowly. "As well as your father."

"What?" Peter exclaimed but Bennet kept his eyes trained on the elder Petrelli. He could practically see the gears turn in his head until…

"Oh God!" Nathan covered his face behind his hands and slumped back in the armchair. Suddenly everything seemed to make perfect sense, it all fell into place. But it was such a horrible place Nathan couldn't believe it even existed. His own mother…?

"That day before the fire… before you stole Claire…"

"Yes?" Bennet prodded, quickly trying to steer Petrelli's thought away from Claire.

"Our mother had just found out that I had hired someone to check on Meredith and the baby. She… she told me to let it go, that I shouldn't be bothered by them anymore…"

"Nathan?" Peter placed a tentative hand onto his brother's arm. He didn't quite understand what Nathan meant. He couldn't mean… it couldn't be…?

"The fire that night, it wasn't a coincidence, was it?" Nathan's hazel eyes bore into Bennet then, pleading him silently to, please, contradict him. He couldn't believe that his own mother would…

"Claude and I were sent there for a simple enough assignment that night," Bennet explained at last. "We were to bag and tag a young woman with the ability… she was a fire-starter. She could light up a cigarette with her bare hands. Cigarettes, and other things." Bennet kept his gaze straight on Nathan. "We didn't know she had a baby, they didn't tell us. And, well… it didn't work the way we'd planned and she blew apart the whole building when she felt threatened."

"Meredith," Nathan whispered. Bennet simply nodded. Then his eyes softened and something like regret flickered through them. "I can't say for sure who the order came from but…"

He left the sentence hanging in the air but Nathan understood. Bennet went on, softly: "You have to believe me, we had no idea about the baby."

Silence fell over the three men then, each of them lost in separate thoughts and memories of the events that had somehow managed to change their lives entirely. In completely different ways of course, but still… each man felt that this was an experience that united them somehow.

Eventually Nathan looked up again. "Where did you take her?"

When Bennet gazed at him questioningly Nathan clarified: "After you took Claire that day, where… I mean… was it our mother who arranged the adoption?"

Nathan wouldn't put it past his mother, not with what he'd learned about her involvement. Had she deliberately concealed his daughter's whereabouts from him all those years?

"We were ordered to bring the baby to New York. Our boss made the arrangements. That's all I can tell you," Bennet stared straight into Nathan's eyes.

"Your boss?" Nathan asked. "What's his name, where can I find him?"

"You can't," Bennet replied and his voice had taken on a bitter edge. "He's dead. I killed him seven years ago."

Nathan simply raised an eyebrow at that but Peter gasped shocked: "You killed him? Just like that?"

"No," Bennet's voice was low and sharp. "I killed him because he murdered my pregnant wife. Or, gave the order, though it didn't matter to me at that time. I killed them both."

Both brothers stared at Bennet for a long time after he'd finished his confession. There was nothing they could say after that, was there?

The silence stretched on until Bennet suddenly heard soft footsteps coming from the stairs. Claire!

'God, no!' he thought and panic rose in his guts immediately. Even if the Petrelli brothers weren't at his throat anymore, the second they realized that the girl he'd raised as his own daughter was in fact their Claire… Bennet didn't want to think about how fast Petrelli would have the gun pointed at his head again. He had to do something, prevent them from finding out somehow!

"Daddy?" Oh shit!

Claire's sleepy voice from the stairs immediately pulled Nathan and Peter from their thoughts. They shared a surprised look and then two pairs of brown eyes fell onto Bennet. He gulped forcefully and stood up.

"That's my daughter," he hurried to explain. "Please, don't…"

"Nathan," Peter pulled his brother up from his seat. "Let's just go, okay? He told us everything he knows and… please, Nathan. You don't want to drag his family into this. Let's just go home."

Nathan's eyes traveled from Peter to Bennet and finally he nodded. "Alright, Pete. Let's go home." Nathan then suddenly seemed to realize the gun was still clasped in his hand and he let it fall onto the armchair he'd just vacated. With a last look at it he said: "Put that away, okay? I'm not gonna be held responsible for your kid accidentally hurting itself if she finds it there."

Bennet picked up the gun and put it inside the waistband of his trousers. "Thanks," he smiled down at Nathan gratefully. And truly meant it.

"Daddy?" Claire shouted again, closer this time. "Oh, what…"

"Go back to bed, sweetheart! I'll be right there in a minute."

Peter and Nathan had walked up to the broken front door and Bennet followed closely. He threw a quick look upstairs and the brother's eyes followed suit.

A little girl, clad in a pink nightshirt with some comic figure on the front, blond locks tousled from sleep, stared back at them, her eyes huge and blue.

"You broke our door!" she gasped and fixed both strangers sternly.

Peter managed a sheepish smile. "Ugh, yeah. Sorry about that."

"Oh no, you can't simply say sorry and everything's alright again, it doesn't work that way, right Daddy?"

"Right you are, sweetheart," Bennet managed a weak smile. "Now go back to bed."

"Dad, are you hurt? What happened?" Claire asked when she'd noticed the bruise on his eye. Her bare feet came down a few steps immediately.

"It's nothing, Cl…" Bennet quickly gulped down the rest of his daughter's name and closed his eyes. God, he'd nearly blown it, calling her by her name. "Sweetheart, please go back upstairs. I'm gonna see these two outside and then I'll join you, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," Claire grumbled and, with one last headshake for the broken door she turned around on her heels and marched off.

Bennet allowed himself a relieved sigh. But then Peter suddenly threw after her: "Hey, little girl?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really sorry about the door, you know?" He smiled up at the blond girl that had turned to face them again. Something about her just made him want to make it up to her.

"Pete, come on, let's go." Nathan took hold of Peter's arm and steered his brother through the doorway. He threw one last look at Bennet and, not knowing why, suddenly held out his hand to the man.

Bennet's eyes flickered from the outstretched hand to Nathan's sincere face and back. Eventually he shook it. Petrelli's hand felt soft and strong at the same time and a warm tingling made it up Bennet's arm at once. He released the hand quickly again.

"Goodnight, Bennet," Nathan stated and turned away.

Peter followed his brother and simply nodded at him. Bennet nodded back.

And then Peter threw a look over his shoulder to Claire who'd watched them silently. "Oh, goodnight, ugh…"

"Claire," the little girl supplied with a shy smile. Bennet let out a gasp and closed his eyed in despair.

"Claire??" he heard the elder Petrelli repeat and Bennet opened his eyes again, sure to find dark eyes full of shock, anger or even hurt and betrayal directed at him.

All he got instead was a fistful of burning hatred, connecting forcefully with his nose. He'd just enough time to think 'Ouch!' and then…

All hell broke loose in a matter of seconds.

* * *

**TBC**

_Sorry to leave you guys hanging with such a big cliffhanger but... okay, I lied, I'm not sorry. I did it on purpose. Tell me how you liked this chapter and you'll get more soon._


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm not too happy with this chapter (especially with little Claire's POV) but it's the best I could come up with. I didn't wanna leave you hanging with that awful cliffhanger for too long_, _so here's the next part._

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Little Claire stared wide-eyed at the scene in front of her. She couldn't understand what was happening here at all.

At first those two men had seemed friendly enough… well, at least the one with the longer dark hair and eyes had, he'd apologized for breaking their front door and had sent her a genuinely enough smile… Claire had smiled back. He'd seemed nice.

She hadn't been so sure about the other one yet, he hadn't said a single word and then… then he'd punched her Daddy in the nose! Hard! Just like that.

Her Daddy had then punched him back equally hard and a forceful tussle had began. Claire had never seen her Dad fight with anyone, she hadn't even known he knew how to do that.

If she was honest she'd been a bit afraid seeing him like that, so different from the loving Daddy she knew. He'd thrown himself and the other man down to the ground and had smacked him hard in the face, repeatedly. The other man had managed to flip them over somehow and then her Daddy had gotten smacked in the face instead.

Claire had started crying then. Big hot tears had spilled from her blue eyes and she'd sniffled into the teddy-bear she'd had cradled in her arms. She'd stared from her Daddy, still rolling around with the angry stranger on the floor, to the third man and back.

"Da-daddy, no!" Claire had cried. "Please, Daddy, stop! Dad!"

The not-so-angry stranger, the one with the big brown eyes, had then come up to where she'd stood shell-shocked on the stairs. He'd crouched down to her and had placed an arm around her shaking shoulders. And although Claire hadn't known him and she hadn't wanted to be comforted by anyone but her Daddy at all, Claire had instinctively leaned into the touch and had buried her face in the stranger's warm embrace.

She hadn't known why but she'd immediately felt secure with this man. He'd reminded her of Uncle Claude somehow. Plus… he'd smelled nice, like sunshine and chocolate cookies.

"Shhht, it's okay," the man had tried to shush her. "Calm down, Claire, it's okay. Nothing's gonna happen to you, I promise!"

Claire had looked up then, into his honest and smiling face. "Who are you?"

"I'm Peter," he'd replied with another smile, and somehow she'd known there and then that she could trust him. He would protect her like her Daddy normally did.

"Peter," she'd sniffled softly, "please make them stop. Make him stop hurting my Dad, okay?"

"Okay," Peter had nodded then and had let go of her to jump down the stairs and in between the fighting grown-ups at once. He'd managed to drag her Daddy off the stranger's form on the floor and her Dad had looked up briefly then, distracted.

And in that moment the stranger had pulled a big gun from somewhere, perhaps her Daddy's pocket or his own, Claire hadn't been so sure. Anyway, he'd scrambled to his feet then and had pointed the gun at her Daddy.

"Dad, no!" she'd cried then and the tears had started falling again.

"Nathan!" Peter had shouted at the same time and had tried to pull the gun from the stranger's hand. But the man had simply shaken off Peter's hand on his arm and had stepped closer to her Dad, by then equally on his feet again.

Her Dad had raised his arms in defeat and had backed away until his back had hit the broken front door's frame. The stranger had turned with him and had kept the gun steadily trained at her Dad's head, his back facing Peter and her.

And that's how they all stood now, shell-shocked and frozen in panic. The only sound that could be heard were Claire's subdued sniffling and three kinds of different pants for breath.

"Nathan, no! You're frightening her, don't do this!" Peter tried to get his brother's attention again. At the same time Bennet gulped heavily and started pleading: "Petrelli, please! Let me explain…"

"Explain?" Nathan thundered and his hand with the gun in it trembled slightly. "How could you possibly explain that you kidnapped my daughter and raised her as your own?"

Complete silence fell over the entrance hall after that.

Claire's eyes widened significantly. "Dad? What is he talking about?"

Bennet stared at his daughter for a second, tears forming in his eyes, before he closed them quickly. Then he let his tall body slide down the doorframe until he sat crouched on his heels. He threw his hands up to cover his face and shook his head in despair.

"Damn it, Nathan!" Peter grabbed Nathan's arms and forced him to finally lower the gun. He stared at his brother with wide eyes. "Stop it! Can't you see what you're doing to her?"

Nathan looked at Peter, eyes dazed and dark, before he threw another look over his shoulder to where Claire had slumped down onto the steps, crying with her head buried on her knees.

"Peter, I…" he seemed to come out of a stupor at last, "God, Pete! That is… she is…"

"I know, Nathan! I know," Peter took the gun from Nathan's trembling fingers and threw it away. Then he pulled his brother into a tight embrace. "Calm down, okay?"

"That's my Claire," Nathan's voice broke. "That's…"

"Is it true, Daddy?" Claire suddenly asked weakly. "Is this… is he…?"

"Oh Claire-Bear!" Bennet looked up at last. "I never wanted you to find out like this. I'm so sorry!"

"It's true? You're my real father?" Claire's big blue eyes stared at Nathan and all he could do was gulp and nod in return.

* * *

_Primatech-Paper, Odessa, Texas_

When he heard the sound of a key turning Claude stopped what he'd been doing for the last six hours (staring at his hands in his lap) and raised his eyes to the small door instead, the only thing not made out of bare gray concrete in this sodding holding cell.

The door opened and… Angela Petrelli walked in, impeccably clothed and with a false smile on her face.

"Claude Rains, so we meet in person at last," she smiled and walked closer to stand in front of the small cot he was sitting on.

Claude smirked up at the woman. "Mrs. Petrelli, I didn't know you'd been looking forward to a meeting with me. I'd arranged for something more private and… cozy, if I'd known you cared."

"Oh, believe me, I care about a lot more things than you could ever begin to imagine," she smirked and walked even closer. "For example my grand-daughter, the one you and your friend Bennet tried so desperately to keep hidden from me."

Claude gulped but then he raised a single eyebrow at her. "Oh, you mean the one you tried to get killed when you ordered us to bag the fire-starter all those years ago? The fire-starter which you managed to persuade your son to up and bloody leave with a kid just like that? You mean that one?"

Angela replied nothing but merely send him a cold smile. She turned around and started pacing. "I had made special arrangements for the girl, Mr. Rains, arrangements that would have assured her safety. But when you failed your assignment…"

"Hey," Claude groused but Angela went on as if he hadn't said anything.

"When you failed… you don't even know what chaos you set in motion with that, do you?" Claude gaped at her silently. "Oh no, and really, how could you? And then you went and killed Thompson…"

"That fucking son of a bitch didn't deserve bloody better!" Claude shouted outraged.

Angela eyed him for a second. "No, perhaps you're right about that. Still, it shouldn't have gone that way, no, not at all."

Angela was about to say more but then she looked up when the door suddenly opened and a sturdy security guard walked in. He handed her something that looked like a small cell phone and left again without a word.

"You're gonna call room service now?" Claude eyed the device warily. "Send for a decent beer, will ya?"

"Claude, Claude…" Angela shook her dark-haired head at him and then walked over to sit down beside him on the cot. Claude immediately shifted to the far edge. "One of these days your sarcasm is going to be the end of you, believe me."

"Why should I? It's worked so well for me all these years."

"Mrs. Petrelli?" A metallic voice suddenly called from the cell phone thing in Angela's hand. "We've surrounded the house now. Visual of the target is confirmed, repeat, target is inside."

"What's that?" Claude frowned although he had a faint idea already.

Angela Petrelli sent him a brilliant smile. "Oh, I thought you'd like to witness first hand what's going on in Prescott, Arizona right now."

Claude's eyes grew wide and he stared at the phone in panic. Then he shouted: "Noah! Can you hear me? Noah, get out of there!"

"One way conversation only, I'm afraid," Angela threw that sardonic smile of hers at him again. "Nobody can hear you. Apart from me, Claude, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't try to destroy my ear drums. Besides, I'd like to hear what goes on there."

"You diabolical…" Claude hissed but then the voice from the phone sounded again and Claude couldn't help but listen in rapt fear.

"We're counting two, no, make that three heads in direct vicinity of the target. The girl plus two unidentified males, one of them armed."

"Do you know who those two are?" Angela asked Claude and for the first time he could detect some kind of emotion in her voice. He shook his head. "My sons! Nathan and Peter… this shouldn't have happened, Claude. They shouldn't be anywhere near this mess!"

Claude gulped. He waited with baited breath for the voice to sound again, he needed to know what was going on at Noah's house.

"All targets are locked, we're going in now."

Claude waited for more, though he wasn't sure he would hear anything above the deafening sound of his racing heartbeat. Oh God, Noah! What was going on there?

* * *

_Bennet's house, Prescott_

Nathan had no idea how long he and this little girl that was his daughter simply stared at each other. It could have been hours or days…

He couldn't believe it. This beautiful angel, this… that was his girl! The one he'd thought he'd lost seven years ago, the one he thought he'd never lay eyes on again… she was standing here now, no three feet away, and was staring at him with big blue eyes (so much like Meredith's eyes, he remembered), tears steaming down her face.

Out of the corner of his eyes Nathan saw Bennet slowly come to his feet. But he couldn't even think about attacking him again. He could do nothing but stare at the little girl that now pressed a stuffed bear closer to her body and wiped her snotty nose on one sleeve.

"Claire," he whispered in wonder, his voice rough with emotions he couldn't even begin to describe.

Peter watched his brother in silence, a faint smile playing around his lips. Maybe this wasn't the happy family reunion he'd always hoped for, far from it actually, but… it was happening right now.

They'd found Claire at last. After seven long years, just when Nathan had buried all his hopes and had wanted to start a new life…

Peter shook his head in amazement. Not even in one of his detailed prophetic dreams had he ever foreseen something like this.

After a while he thought to throw a concerned glance at Bennet. The man stood heavily leaning against the doorframe, tears in his eyes and…

"What's that?" Peter suddenly noticed a movement on the outside and the next minute a handful of black-clad and heavily armed men stormed up to the door.

"Freeze!" one of them shouted and at the same time he fired his weapon straight at Bennet's back. The man's body convulsed and then slumped heavily onto the floor. He fell face-down and didn't move again.

"No!" Peter shouted and then he charged.

* * *

Miles away in Texas Claude jumped up from his cot and stared at the device in Angela Petrelli's hands.

"Target Nr. One out, repeat, Target Nr. One down."

"No," Claude whispered and listened in panic to the sound of heavy boot steps and struggling.

* * *

"Daddy!"

Claire's panicked voice broke Nathan out of his haze at last. He looked around and saw Peter wrestling with one of the black-clad attackers. His little brother seemed to be holding up his own for now, thank God.

Nathan turned back to Claire and cried: "Run, Claire! Run!" He saw the small girl shake her head but before he could do anything else he suddenly felt something hit him in the side of his neck.

Something had bitten him, and…

"Arrrgh!" Nathan cried out in pain when the electric shock of the teaser gun forced him to his knees.

"Nathan!" Peter cried and rushed over to him. He'd managed to best his attacker for now but Nathan saw two others come up behind his brother's back.

"Pete," he urged, "take Claire and run upstairs. I'll hold them off!"

"No," Peter shook his head. "I'm not leaving you!"

"Pete, please! Get her out of here!" Nathan pleaded and there was a pain in his eyes Peter had never seen before. "Please, you have to keep her safe!"

Peter stared at Nathan for another second and then he sprang up, grabbed Claire under both arms and fled up the stairs with her crying all through it.

* * *

"Lost sight of Target Nr. Two, repeat, target Nr. Two was taken upstairs. You, and you… follow them!"

Claude didn't know what to make of that. It seemed one of the Petrelli sons had managed to get a hold on Claire. But if they'd fled upstairs… there was nowhere for them to hide, was there?

'Damn it,' Claude thought desperately. They were trapped.

And what about Noah? Was he…?

* * *

Nathan forced his weak knees to suspend his form and turned around again. He shoved all thoughts of Peter and Claire aside for now and concentrated on his attackers. He could only hope that Peter had made it. Surely his little brother had managed to fly Claire out of here in time, right?

Nathan threw himself at the nearest black-clad guy and managed to tackle him to the ground. He looked around in panic and spied the gun he'd held earlier, Bennet's gun, forgotten at the foot of the stairs.

Nathan crawled to the side and grabbed hold of it. He felt strong hands trying to pull him back and he kicked at them desperately. Then he turned onto his back, aimed and…

The gun fired two times and the man above him keeled over backwards, not moving again.

Nathan's hand trembled badly in shock, he'd never before had to actually shoot another human being in his life. Even in his times as a soldier he'd managed to avoid it.

But… he couldn't let his thoughts linger on that now, could he? There was still one other attacker, the one who'd barked out the orders earlier.

Nathan eyed the man opposite from him warily. "Drop the gun!" he shouted. He was about to do it – Claire was safe and that's all that mattered now, wasn't it? – when he suddenly noticed a slight movement to his right.

Bennet.

The man was alive! He was creeping forward, inch for inch, behind the attacker's back.

"I said drop it!" Nathan's opponent shouted again and raised his teaser gun. Nathan made a fake movement, as if he was about to crouch down, and at the same time Bennet swiftly kicked the legs out from under the attacker.

The man went down and Nathan grabbed hold of the teaser gun that had fallen from his hands. He aimed for the man's chest and fired.

"Arrrgh!"

Then Nathan stumbled up to Bennet's side, hauled him to his feet and dragged the badly limping man out of the house.

* * *

"Arrrgh!" Claude and Angela could hear the pained cry though the phone. And then an eerie silence settled and made them wonder what had happened.

"Noah!" Claude cried, never mind that he knew Bennet couldn't hear him.

Oh bugger, had he made it out alive?

* * *

Nathan dragged Bennet across the lawn and then…

"Freeze!" a voice suddenly shouted.

Nathan lifted his head and looked around. About two dozen black-clad men had crept up on them from all sides. One of them took a step forward and then his voice boomed up to Nathan.

"We only want Bennet, son. Hand him over and nothing's gonna happen to you. You're free to go!"

Bennet eyed Nathan from where he'd bend over, gasping for breath and barely able to stand at all. Tired blue eyes, sure about Nathan's next move, met hazel ones that seemed cold and measuring. Bennet really couldn't hold it against Petrelli if he were to give up now. That's what he would do if their situations were reversed after all. He surely hadn't given this man any reason to risk his life for him, quite the contrary.

These company men – cause Bennet was sure that's what they were – were rather doing Petrelli a favor in taking him out of the picture.

"It's alright," Bennet gasped and stood up straight to look at the man one last time. This was his Claire-Bear's real father and he could only hope that he would in time come to care as much and as well for her as she deserved. As much as he'd come to care for her, adopted or not.

"It's alright, really," he repeated when Petrelli just kept staring at him. "I understand." He took one step away from Petrelli and closer to the armed men. "Just… keep my little girl safe, Petrelli. Tell her, tell her I'm sorry, okay? And… that I tried to be the best dad I could, even if that wasn't much. Tell her I love her with all my heart."

Bennet took a deep breath, wiped away a lonely tear that had somehow made it onto his sweat-covered cheek, and turned towards the company men.

Nathan watched him go another two steps before he suddenly jumped forward, grabbed Bennet's tall form, and hauled him up into the sky.

"Tell her that yourself, you fucking bastard!" he growled into Bennet's ear and flew them away into the night. "Tell her yourself!"

* * *

**TBC**

_Sorry for the rather poor description of fight. I'm far more of an 'emotion-writer' than an 'action-writer' I guess. But I hope it didn't come across as too irrational and far-fetched._


	6. Chapter 6

_Okay, this is where the crack begins. I've no idea what's gotten into me to write Noah so completely OOC. I hope you don't mind too much. Have fun._

**Chapter Six**

**

* * *

  
**

_Primatech-Paper, Odessa, Texas_

Claude had no idea how long he'd stood there, frozen to the spot, with his eyes flickering from Angela Petrelli's face to the phone in her hands and back.

The too bloody quiet phone.

But eventually the creepy static noise coming out of it had stopped and then a different voice than before, slightly out of breath and with badly repressed anger, had sounded. And it had managed to dissolve the tight knot that had constricted Claude's throat earlier with only one barked-out sentence:

"Target No. One escaped, repeat, lost visual of Target No. One. Both targets gone. Operation unsuccessful. Mission aborted. Damn it!"

Claude let out the breath he'd been holding for the longest time. "Oh bloody hell, thank God!" He shook his head and dropped down onto the cot again. Only then he dared to throw a glimpse at the woman by his side.

Angela Petrelli stared at the silent phone in her hands for a moment longer. When she lifted her hazel eyes to look at Claude… he wasn't sure but… was that relief he could detect there? Or mere disappointment?

Claude didn't care. Noah and Claire had somehow gotten away, they were safe. That's all that mattered right now, wasn't it?

* * *

_Somewhere in the air above Arizona_

Bennet's head lolled forward once more and he could feel his conscious mind threaten to slip into oblivion for the… he'd no idea how long he'd been fighting it. But once again he forced his head up and his eyes to focus on Petrelli's wind-tousled hair. His arms tightened around the man's neck and his fingers dug into his chest until he was sure he'd leave bruises.

Well, a few more of them wouldn't make any difference now, right?

Bennet let out a low chuckle thinking about the absolutely absurd situation he found himself in right now. He was clinging with his last strength to the man that had repeatedly tried to kill him (and vice versa, Bennet had to admit) in the last five hours.

A man that was currently flying them through the night's air just under sonic speed, carrying him on his back in a seriously embarrassing and even more uncomfortable position, to God-knows-where.

"Do you have any idea where we're going yet?" Bennet tried to make his voice rise above the roaring wind around them.

"No!" Nathan Petrelli replied tersely without looking at him.

Bennet opened his mouth to say more but Petrelli then turned his head to glare at him. "And I swear, Bennet. If the next words out of your mouth are 'Aren't we there yet?' or, God forbid, 'I have to pee!' then…"

"Jeez, are we testy or what?" Bennet smirked.

"Testy?" Nathan barked baffled and his grip on Bennet's arms tightened painfully. "Do you have any idea what millions of thoughts are racing through my head right now?"

"Well, hopefully dropping me again isn't anywhere on that list," Bennet couldn't help it, he smirked. He surely must have gotten a concussion, he couldn't think of any other reason why he'd feel the suicidal need to bait the man that had just saved his life.

"You know," Petrelli went on in the same terse voice than before, "it would make things a hell of a lot easier if I would do just that! You're not exactly small luggage, Bennet!"

Bennet knew that Petrelli wasn't simply referring to his tall and surely heavy body. He couldn't quite figure out yet why the man had saved him from the company men earlier. This whole situation was crazy!

"Why did you do it?"

"Huh? What's that?" Nathan had trouble hearing the man, let alone understand what he was asking.

"You could have handed me over to them…"

"And then what?" Petrelli shouted back. "You think they would have let me just walk away? Come on!"

"Alright, point taken," Bennet shrugged. He knew the company policy after all. "Still, I don't… I mean, if I'd been in your shoes…"

"Yeah, alright. I get it!" Bennet could feel Petrelli shift his weight a little before he went on: "You'd have served my head on a platter!"

"I… yes." It was the simple truth and Bennet had no wish to deny it.

Petrelli's mouth suddenly quirked. "Well, then I'm clearly the better man here, right?"

"Yeah, you're a true saint," Bennet smiled at him. "You're like the Pope!" Petrelli only scoffed.

"Pope Petrelli, sounds good, doesn't it?" Bennet continued.

"I was rather thinking of President Petrelli one day," the other man sent him one of his brilliant false smiles.

"Seriously?" Bennet gaped and when Petrelli simply shrugged Bennet couldn't hold it any longer. What started as a low chuckle deep in his throat turned into a wide grin and a full-blown laughter.

Petrelli eyed him suspiciously. "What? What's so damn funny?"

"I was just…" Bennet gasped between coughs of laughter. "Your brother. 'Peter Petrelli, professional patcher-upper and President Petrelli's personal poodle!' If that isn't a tongue twister!"

Petrelli gaped at him open-mouthed for a second and Bennet couldn't help but guffaw again. Eventually Petrelli turned his shaking head back to stare straight on. "They must have hit you a lot harder than I thought, Bennet. That small lump in the back of your head, see, that's the remains of your brain, all jumbled and mashed!"

"You're probably right," Bennet grinned and let his head fall back onto the man's shoulder. The suit's thin material did nothing to stop the body heat from seeping into Bennet's flushed cheek and he leaned into it involuntarily. "Hm, this is nice."

"Shut up, Bennet!" Petrelli growled but there was a hint of amusement that he couldn't quite suppress. "Or else I'll turn around and promptly deliver your crazy babbling self to those company men myself!"

"Yes, Mister President," Bennet smirked and then his eyes fell closed. The last thing he noticed, before unconsciousness finally took over, was that it hadn't been a joke, Petrelli really smelled rather nice.

* * *

_The Steiner's Estate, Prescott, Arizona_

"I wanna go see my Daddy," Claire sniffled into Peter's chest. He pulled the small girl closer and kissed the top of her blond locks. "I know, Claire. I know."

He threw a look around the dark balcony of the Steiner's mansion they were currently sitting on before his eyes traveled up into the sky again. From here he'd earlier watched Nathan and Bennet race up into the air and…

God only knew where they were headed off to in their panicked flight.

Peter let out a quiet sigh and looked back at the girl he'd thrown his arm around. Claire, his niece! He'd still trouble believing that they'd actually found her!

"Where's my Daddy now?" Claire's voice sounded tired and frightened.

"I don't know, Claire. I don't know where Nathan took him but… I promise, I'll keep you safe till we've found them, okay?" He tried to smile at her and thankfully Claire gave a small smile back.

"How did you make us fly, Peter?" She asked then. "And Dad and… Nathan," she tried the name for the first time. "How can you fly?"

"That's… it's just something I can do," Peter smiled sheepishly. "I got that from Nathan."

"Really? Then…can I fly, too?" Peter stared at her in surprise. "I mean, if he's my real father then…"

"I don't know," Peter supplied. "You wanna jump off the balcony and find out?"

"No!" Claire gasped and Peter quickly pulled her close to his body again. "Shhht, I didn't mean that, you know? I'd never let you do something that might get you hurt, Claire. You can trust me."

"I know," Claire muffled into his jumper and then she looked up with gleaming blue eyes. "You're just like my Uncle Claude."

"Claude?" Wasn't that the invisible man Bennet had mentioned earlier?

"Yeah, he's always protecting me, too. You're like him, only you're younger and you don't talk in that funny way of his."

"He talks funny?" Peter wanted to know more about this man he thought he remembered faintly. Claire beamed up at him then. "Yeah, he calls me 'Ccclaaair' instead of Claire and he always uses funny words like 'bloody' and 'sodding' and…"

"Maybe he's English," Peter thought aloud and Claire nodded before she buried her face in his shirt again. "I miss him, you know? And I miss my Daddy," she sniffled.

Suddenly Peter had an idea. "Do you know where he lives? Your Uncle Claude?" Maybe they could go hide with him for the time being. Peter knew that they had to get moving soon, and he'd no idea how he should be able to reach Nathan… he needed a phone, and clothes for Claire. The small girl was shivering in her nightshirt but he couldn't go back to her house to get her some things, could he? He'd no idea where these creepy army men had gone off to… if they had the house under surveillance… he couldn't risk getting caught now.

Claire shook her head sadly. "He lives somewhere in Texas, but I don't know where. I've never been there, Dad always says it's too dangerous though I don't know why."

"Huh, shit!" Peter let out and then suddenly a light in the house behind them was turned on and Peter swore again. "Shit!"

He scrambled to his feet and dragged Claire with him into a corner. He motioned for the girl to stay silent and then he craned his neck and looked through the window. A dark-haired woman had just entered the bedroom and Peter let out a gasp.

"Heidi!"

"You know her?" Claire frowned up at him but Peter didn't look at her. He was trying to think quickly… should he risk it?

When he couldn't come up with a better alternative Peter crouched down to Claire. "Okay Claire. I need you to hide here, while I go and talk to Heidi, okay? No matter what, you have to stay hidden, she can't see you!"

Claire nodded finally, though she had no idea what Peter wanted to do. But she trusted him.

"Good," Peter stood up again and, after he'd taken a deep breath, stepped up to the window and knocked softly. He could see Heidi turn around with a frown and then…

She'd obviously noticed him because the next minute she grabbed something from a corner – was that a baseball bat? – and cautiously made her way over to the balcony door.

"Heidi, it's me," Peter whispered, "Peter Petrelli."

The scowl on Heidi's beautiful face deepened but she opened the door an inch. "Peter? What are you doing here in the middle of the night? I told you already, Nathan's not here anymore!"

"I know," Peter stepped a little closer and was glad to notice that she didn't back away. Apparently she wasn't frightened by this rather odd spontaneous nightly visit.

"Heidi," he continued in low voice, "I know this sounds completely crazy and you have no reason to trust me, but… I need your help. Please, Heidi!"

"My help?"

"Please, can I come in?" Peter hoped that his voice sounded as sincere as he truly meant it.

"Peter," Heidi shook her head once, "I don't think that's…"

"Please, I need to make a phone call. It's really important. I can't explain it to you but… please, you have to help me."

"How did you get up to my balcony, Peter? What happened… I don't understand…"

"I know, Heidi, and I'm sorry for everything that happened with Nathan, believe me." Peter bore his big brown puppy-dog eyes into Heidi's blue ones. Eventually he could see the resolve crumble.

"Wait here and I'll give you the phone, okay?" she stated calmly.

"Yeah, okay," Peter breathed out and watched her go back into the room. Seconds later she returned and pressed a small cordless phone onto his hand. Peter smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Heidi."

Heidi nodded tersely in return.

* * *

_Somewhere in the air_

Nathan was busy searching for a good place to land. He needed to rest for a while, he simply couldn't hold himself, and Bennet's tall slack form on his back, up for a minute longer.

That man was heavy!

He spotted a couple of relatively even rocks in front of him and slowed his flight down until he came to hover vertically above the stony platform. With a grunt he plopped down and let Bennet's lifeless form slide to the ground. The man came to lie on his back and Nathan slumped down next to him, gasping for breath and with his heart threatening to burst in his chest.

"Oh God," he panted and rubbed his hands over his tired face. He felt completely exhausted to the bone.

When, after a few more minutes of simply catching his breath, Nathan hadn't heard any sound from his side he lifted his head from the ground and threw a glance at Bennet.

The man had his eyes closed and his head had lolled to the side. "Bennet?" Nathan prodded a finger at the man's chest. Nothing. "Bennet!" he tried again, a bit louder this time, and with more force behind the poking.

Nathan leaned up on his elbows and took a closer look at the man's slack face. Then he took hold of the nearest shoulder and shook it, hard.

"What do you want?" Bennet's voice sounded annoyed but steady. He pried one eye open and managed to convey a glare even with that.

"Nothing!" Nathan lay back down quickly, not sure he wanted to examine the feeling that suddenly fluttered through his stomach. It felt conspicuously like relief, but that was just mad, wasn't it?

"Petrelli," Bennet sighed, sounding even more annoyed with that.

"It's nothing, okay?" Nathan groused and lifted up on one elbow again. "I was just checking if you'd finally died on me now!"

"No, sorry to disappoint," Bennet smirked.

Nathan plopped to the ground again and put a hand over his face. Then he turned his head to the side and threw a pointed look at Bennet. "Yeah, well, my bad. I was just getting my hopes up but… guess I have to try killing you a little harder next time, huh?"

"You can try, but…" Bennet's smirk was cold when he turned to face Nathan as well. "It takes much more than what a stuffed law-suit like yourself could ever come up with, special ability or not!"

Nathan glared daggers at the man. He couldn't believe it! Here he'd just saved the bastard's life and had dragged his sorry ass hundreds of miles through the air… the bastard who'd kidnapped his daughter and had lied to him about her whereabouts, had hidden her from him and…

Nathan's heart jumped in his chest and he could feel the anger pump through his veins like mad. And yet his voice was deadly quiet.

"Do you know why I'm not simply kicking your sorry ass over the edge there right now and watch your body splatter on the ground?" he growled low in his throat and fisted a hand in Bennet's shirtfront. "Do you wanna know why?"

Bennet merely stared at him silently and Nathan pulled the man closer until their faces were only inches apart.

"Because I don't want to miss Claire's shocked face when she finally comes to understand what the man that pretended to be her 'daddy' truly is!" Nathan released Bennet and slumped back down onto his back. "You stole her from me, you lied to her for her entire life and…"

"You know nothing about our lives, Petrelli!" Bennet sat up and glared at Nathan. "I kept Claire safe and out of the company's grasp for years! Your own mother ordered to kill her! Your mother! And besides, I didn't steal Claire from you! You'd left the mother because you simply couldn't be bothered with a child at that time! You didn't want her, Petrelli! And when I was asked to adopt her I did, and I gave Claire a loving home. I raised her and protected her all this years! She's my little girl and if you even think about trying to take her away from me now then…"

Bennet gulped heavily and Nathan could see the cords stand out in his neck. "Then what?" he glared.

"Then you're gonna feel really sorry for not killing me when you had the chance, believe me!"

Nathan stared at the man for a while. Then he suddenly shrugged and got up into a sitting position as well. "Well, I guess that just leaves me with one option then."

"What," Bennet asked and watched Petrelli struggle to his feet.

"I'm gonna take off and leave you here to…"

Before he'd finished that sentence Bennet had grabbed his legs and had tackled him to the ground. The taller man sat on top of Nathan, pressed his arms to the ground next to his head and leaned down to Nathan's stunned face. "Oh no, Petrelli, I don't think so! I'd rather chain myself to your ankle…"

"With what," Petrelli smirked. "A lock of your hair? Mine? What?"

"I don't care if I have to take your precious fifty-dollar shoe-laces knotted together for that as long as it gets the job done!"

Nathan threw a glance down to his feet before he looked at Bennet's face once more. "I'm wearing slippers."

"Of course you do," came the dry reply. Both men stared at each other for a second. Then Nathan's lips suddenly began to twitch and the corner of his mouth lifted up involuntarily. Bennet tried to keep a straight face for a while longer but… he simply couldn't.

He grinned down at Nathan and eased up on the pressure on the man's arms. "Damn, this is just too fucking crazy!" Bennet shook his head.

"Tell me about it," Nathan copied the words Bennet had already uttered earlier that day to describe their very dysfunctional and fucked-up relationship. Or had that been yesterday?

Nathan couldn't remember exactly how much time had passed since they'd sat side by side on the grass in near companionship right after they'd tried to kill each other for the first time.

He'd known then already.

This man with his dry sarcasm and completely irritating attitude somehow managed to worm his way under his skin like no one else ever had.

Well, apart from Peter of course.

"Peter!" Nathan suddenly gasped when he remembered. He didn't even know for sure if his little brother had made it out of the house alive! And Claire… were they safe?

As if connected by telepathy Nathan's cell phone suddenly began to ring. Nathan startled slightly and then he pushed Bennet off his body to sit up. With trembling fingers he dug the phone out of his suit.

"Peter?" he gasped and let out a relieved sigh when he heard his brother's voice. "Nathan, thank God. Are you safe? Where are you?"

"Ugh…" Nathan looked around and shrugged helplessly. That was a damn good question, wasn't it?

* * *

**TBC**

_Please, please review. I really need feedback._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

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During their brief phone call Peter and Nathan had decided on meeting in Vegas.

"Vegas? Why Vegas?" Nathan could still hear Bennet's complains ringing in his ears. "Why not?" he'd shrugged but Bennet had grumbled on: "Why not someplace even more public, like, oh, I don't know… Disneyland?"

Nathan had sent him an overly patient glare then. "Because our parents don't own a free apartment that I happen to have spare keys to in Disneyland but in Vegas!"

And that had been the end of that. Bennet had shut up, thankfully, for the rest of the flight and had contented himself with making his tall form even more heavy than before. And he'd made a sport out of poking his long limbs into parts of Nathan's anatomy that didn't like to be poked at all.

Or, well… one particular part of him had, much to Nathan's shock, rather liked the steady warm pressure and had come to perk up in interest.

So now he'd been rock-hard for the last ten minutes and Nathan had no clue if Bennet simply hadn't noticed yet (which was kind of hard to believe with Bennet's foot pressed in between Nathan's thighs just so) or if he'd simply decided on not commenting for now. Nathan was sure it was the latter and he already feared the second the bastard would chose to mock him about it (with that damn smirk firmly in place, Nathan could clearly imagine it).

But for now Bennet had nothing to say and so Nathan steered their bodies through the silent night. Finally, when they'd reached their destination, he slowed down in speed to land at the side of the empty road, right behind the garishly sparkling "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign.

"God, remind me to never take anyone on piggy-back ever again, alright?" Nathan grunted and tried to shake some feeling back into his tight muscles. Every joint in his body seemed to be stiff and bruised.

"Why? I rather got the impression that parts of you enjoyed it!"

And there was the damn smirk again. Nathan sighed and threw Bennet a dark look. Then he simply started walking along the side of the road. Bennet with his long legs was by his side only seconds later. Nathan watched the man's surprisingly content face for a while before he chose to finally comment on it.

"You know what? You seem awfully frisky for a man who just lost his home, his job… his entire life."

Bennet's face darkened visibly but he kept silent. Nathan held up a hand and stopped walking when a stray thought suddenly occurred to him. "Do you at least have your wallet?"

"Why?" Bennet asked. "You expect me to pay rent for your parents' apartment? Sorry, Petrelli, I'm fresh out!"

"You got nothing? No ID, no cash at all?" Nathan raised an eyebrow.

"I have, let's see…" Bennet pulled a black leather wallet out of his back pocket and quickly sifted through it. "I have my driver's license and roughly about a hundred and seventy-five dollars in cash. Oh, and a season ticket for the Arizona Bears. Does that help you somehow?"

"Football?" Nathan lifted an eyebrow and took the wallet from Bennet's hands. He started walking again and Bennet easily fell in next to him. "I figured you'd be more of a, I don't know… boxing-type maybe. Definitely not football."

Bennet eyed him closely. "You don't know a thing about me, Petrelli." He tried to get his wallet back but Nathan quickly pulled it out of reach. He sifted through it some more.

"I'm starting to get that," he stated and stared curiously at a picture he'd just found inside the wallet. A man somewhere around his late thirties grinned back at him from it, with dark blond hair and a wicked gleam in his eyes. He was dressed casually in sweater and jeans and the corners of his mouth were drawn into the dirtiest smirk Nathan had ever seen.

"Who's this, Bennet? Your boyfriend?" he joked.

"That's Claude," Bennet made another attempt to get his wallet back but Petrelli was quicker and hid it behind his back.

"The invisible man?" Nathan asked further. "Not so much invisible at all, is he?"

"Yeah, right! For it would make so much sense for him to be invisible in a picture," Bennet countered.

"Is that Claire by his side?" Nathan had taken another look at the photo and had just noticed a small hand clasping the man's larger one. The rest of the child hadn't made it onto the picture.

"Yes, it was taken on Claire's seventh birthday. He brought her blue balloons," Bennet looked much sadder suddenly. "That was the last time we met in person."

Nathan didn't know why but he suddenly felt the strong urge to somehow lift Bennet's subdued spirits. He went for the first thing that came to his mind. "Two years? Damn, that's a pretty long-distance-relationship you got going there, Bennet. I really hope the sex is good enough to make up for the lost time."

"We're not… that's…" Bennet sputtered but then got control over his voice again. He eyed Nathan levelly. "I don't think that's any of your business but Claude and I are just friends!"

"Come on," Nathan smirked and leered at Bennet. Bennet simply glared down at him and… was he blushing? Yes, that was definitely a blush covering Bennet's cheeks there!

"I knew it!" Nathan shouted triumphantly.

"The hell you know, Petrelli! It was a one-time-thing only and I was drunk off my ass! Claude may be gay but I'm not!"

"Sure," Nathan leered on. "Keep trying to convince yourself of that, Bennet, but I know better!" The last part came out nearly sing-songed and Nathan's eyes gleamed mockingly. Now he had the bastard at last.

"Takes one to know one, what Petrelli?" Bennet stated and was past Nathan in two strides.

"Now, that's rich, Bennet!" Nathan suited up to him quickly. "I was on my way to propose to Heidi, remember?"

Bennet stopped in his tracks and threw a dangerous look at Nathan. "Yeah, by the way, did you plan on eventually letting her join you and Peter or did you just want to keep on screwing your own brother behind your wife's back?"

Nathan stumbled back as if he'd been slapped. All the color drained from his face and his hazel eyes narrowed to golden slits. With something bordering on a hiss he jumped up to Bennet and grabbed the man by his shirt. "If you ever hint at something like that again, Bennet, I swear I'm gonna kill you for real this time! I am **not** screwing my brother! I've never touched him, not like that!"

Bennet stared at the angry face for a while. He was completely sure that he'd been right in his assumption. He'd seen it in Petrelli's eyes. In both Petrelli's eyes, the younger brother had it just as bad as this one. Eventually he replied calmly: "But you want to, you've thought…"

"No," Nathan spat and released his hold on Bennet's front. "No, you're wrong, Bennet. I would never think about something like that. That's… sick!"

"Keep trying to convince yourself of that, Petrelli!" Bennet threw Nathan's words right back at him and then simply marched further along the road.

Nathan followed at a slower pace and the silence between them stretched uncomfortably.

By the time they passed the first of many garishly gleaming Casinos the hostility had grown to a nearly tangible knot hanging in the air between them. And when Nathan walked up to a modern, twenty-stored apartment house built completely out of glass and chrome, and Bennet followed him into the elevator and the doors dinged shut behind them, it seemed that the little air there was in the steel cage was quickly sucked up by the hostile atmosphere.

Bennet rubbed his tired eyes and took a deep breath. Nathan coughed and opened the first few buttons of his shirt. He loosened his tie and wondered how such a small accessory, that usually felt nearly natural to him these days, could suffocate him so much. He also wondered briefly how it had managed to survive the last twenty-four hours of constant fight or flight unharmed and firmly in place.

The elevator announced the fifth floor (only fifteen more to go, Nathan thought darkly) when Bennet suddenly turned to him.

"Okay, look, Petrelli," he sighed and rubbed his tired face before he stared down at Nathan again, eyes shadowed but not as hostile as before. "Hate me all you want, I don't care, but… if you start dragging Claire into this resentment between us, which is by the way only natural given our situation, then I swear I'm gonna get real angry."

"You're the one who accused me of sleeping with my brother, Bennet!" Nathan's voice flamed up and soon enough he had a glaring Bennet right in front of his face (and a strong fist clenched in his loosened shirt).

"You see, that's what I meant. You don't think before you open your mouth." Bennet shook him slightly. "Don't you dare say things like that in front of my daughter, I don't want her to hear anything like that, okay?"

"**Your** daughter?"

Bennet didn't raise to the bait but kept fixing him with gleaming eyes. Eventually Nathan threw a quick look at the steel grip on his shirt before he faced Bennet once again. "Get your hands off me, Bennet."

The taller man loomed over him until the elevator dinged to announce their arrival on the twentieth floor. When the door slid open Bennet finally released his hold on Nathan's clothes and took a step back. "Remember to hold your split tongue in check around Claire and everything's fine!"

Without another look at Bennet Nathan left the elevator's confining space and turned right. When he'd reached the last door on the left and pulled his keys out of a pocket Bennet had suited up to him. Nathan placed a hand onto the handle and, just before he opened the door, sent Bennet a shaded glare.

"You're one to talk, Bennet. I'm sure Claire has heard nothing but the truth out of your mouth for the last seven years."

"I know that I had to lie to her more than I'd ever wished to but, it was necessary to shield her from certain things. I had to protect her, Petrelli, and I did a damn good job of it until…"

Bennet broke off and Nathan sent him another dark look before he opened the door and entered his parents' apartment. Bennet followed warily and, after Nathan had turned on the lights, took a long look around.

The rather gloomy hall with paneled wood on both sides opened up into a lighter, creamy-colored sitting room with a top-to-bottom, side-to-side window on the right. It had to be special-tempered glass because the neon lights from outside didn't make it into the room at all.

Bennet stepped inside and instantly eyed the plush leather couch with longing. He was starting to feel the stress of the past hours in every bone and muscle, let alone in his throbbing head, and he'd love nothing more than to sink down onto the couch and close his tired eyes.

Not that calm rest was an option with Petrelli anywhere near, Noah thought gloomily. Than man just kind of rubbed him the wrong way, and he couldn't for the life of it figure out why. Sure, the constant threat of the fact that this was his Claire-Bear's father who could try to take her away from him was looming permanently on the edge of his mind and it surely clouded his judgment but…

There was something else, something darker, more primal… a feeling that had settled into his guts the very minute they'd come in close contact. The crazy flight, or make that flights, the threatening each other at gun-point in permanent turns, the fist-fights… and then the completely surreal baiting of each other, the sniping and the more harmless banter, almost friendly…

What was it about Nathan Petrelli that had made him act so out of character today that he barely recognized himself?

Bennet threw a long assessing look at Petrelli (who'd thrown himself onto the couch much to Bennet's annoyance) as if he expected the answer to his jumbled thoughts to pop up on the man's forehead like one of the neon signs this city was famous for.

Petrelli had his one arm thrown over his face and his legs stretched out on the couch. "Quit staring and sit down before you keel over, Bennet!" His voice came out muffled but calm, almost sociable. Bennet shook his head in defeat. One minute they were at each other's throats and the next they behaved like… friends?

"Crazy!" Bennet sighed more to himself and then looked around again.

"What's that?" Petrelli asked from behind his arm.

"Bathroom?" Bennet asked instead of an answer. When Petrelli pointed back into the hall without opening his eyes Bennet turned around on his heels and went to look for himself.

He found the blue and white tiled restroom easily enough (there were only two doors apart from the front door and one of them led into a posh bedroom) and there he stared for a long time at the bruised and beaten face in the mirror. Who was that man staring back at him?

Bennet splashed cold water onto his face while he tried to figure out if the man he'd known himself to be could be found anywhere under the grime and crusted blood. He wasn't so sure.

When he dried his face he briefly contemplated taking a shower but then… No, not until he'd seen for himself that his Claire-Bear was safe and sound and in his arms again where she belonged.

As if on cue Bennet suddenly heard a sharp knock on the apartment door and he was there in a matter of seconds, yanking the door open and then sliding to his knees in relief when he heard the heavenly sound of his daughter's voice.

"Daddy!" Claire cried and threw her arms around him.

God, Bennet hadn't known how much he'd longed for this moment above anything else. Shower, clean clothes, even sleep was forgotten the second his arms closed around his daughter's trembling body.

"Claire!" Noah sobbed and buried his face in the blond locks. He squeezed her hard, inhaled her scent and sobbed all his relief into her hair. "Oh Claire, thank God you're alright. My Claire-Bear!"

"Oh Daddy, I missed you so!"

"Are you alright?" Noah held her at arm's lengths and quickly looked her up and down. "Claire?"

"I'm fine, Daddy! I'm fine," Claire's voice sounded exhausted but otherwise fine. She threw herself into his arms again.

Noah had no idea how long he'd sat there crouched in the doorframe, his little girl cradled securely in his arms, but eventually he looked up and noticed Peter Petrelli standing behind them, a worn out expression on his face.

"Thank you, Peter," Noah looked at the younger man with serious gratitude. "For bringing her back safe."

Peter managed a weak smile. "You're welcome."

"Peter? Pete!" Nathan had woken up from his impromptu nap on the couch and now stood in the doorframe of the sitting room. He took two more steps and then Peter was there, rushing past Bennet and Claire into his outstretched arms as if he was being pulled forward by an invisible rubber band.

"Nathan!" he breathed out and buried his face in the crook of his brother's neck. "God, Nathan!"

"I'm here, Pete," Nathan had his fists crunched in the jumper on Peter's back and the fabric was nearly torn apart by his strong grip. He let his eyes close for a moment to simply bathe in his little brother's presence before he took a step back to hold Peter at arms lengths.

Noah watched the two brothers from his position on the floor. The similarity of the Petrelli-reunion to what his greeting of Claire must have looked like earlier was not lost on him at all.

And that's the exact moment Noah realized it.

When he saw the relief and… love in Petrelli's eyes, the look softening the harsh features in exactly the same way Noah was sure his emotions had made his own face ease when he'd held Claire… that's when it all fell into place.

Their hostile dealings with each other… their entirely crazy actions the whole time… he realized at once what it was that had made them act this way.

Here they were, two very similarly headstrong men, trying to protect the ones they loved most in this world while they felt their lives crumble to pieces around them. They were feeling threatened by each other. And in their panic they reacted the only way they knew how to deal with the fucked-up situation.

Like a hurt and cornered animal, lashing out and snarling and biting at everything in its path.

It was every creature's natural instinct, though, in their case now, completely irrational and unnecessary.

Because Noah realized there and then that if he and Petrelli would just stop their biting for a second and take a close look at each other, they'd see themselves in the other like reflections in a mirror. Cause that's what they were, two sides of a medal.

And Noah knew that if he could just make Nathan realize it somehow… convince him that they were very much alike…

He was sure that once they'd both realized that they would get along much better. Perhaps they would even have a chance to become… allies? Friends? Whatever.

At least something other than the enemies they'd behaved as the entire time.

* * *

_Holding cell at Primatech-Paper, Odessa_

Many hours had passed since Angela Petrelli had stood up from the cot and had left the cell without another word. Hours with nothing to do for Claude but to think about Noah and Claire.

Where were they now? Had they really managed to get away? And had it really been the Petrelli brothers that had somehow gotten them out?

Claude's thoughts had revolved around nothing else. He hadn't touched the food that had been shoved through the cat-flap-like hole in the wall. He hadn't spared a single thought on it, nor had he slept a second (although he had to have been awake for more than twenty-four hours straight). And Claude had only now started to think about the rather dire situation he found himself in right now.

Apparently his double-life had finally come to an end. He'd blown the cover himself by trying to warn Noah of this attack. And if that hadn't proven his disloyalty to the company yet… the way he'd reacted to Noah's and Claire's flight certainly had.

So, he was found out. After seven years of spying and secretly working against the company's policy in rather plain sight… he was done now.

Oh well, or so it bloody looked, alright.

But Claude couldn't have cared any less about what happened to him now. Lifelong imprisonment… okay, not such a good perspective but… better than the short-lived alternative, right?

Oh bollocks, let the company come and take him out… Claude didn't care. Ever since the day he'd helped killing Thompson he'd thought his life would be over any day, and seven long years later here he was still, alive and kicking… he'd outlived his estimated expiring date by far.

Rather than the freshly caught mackerel he'd always taken himself for (figuratively speaking, of course – eat fresh from the fishing rod or else it might turn bad the next day), he'd turned out to be like something that came in a bloody tin can, like tuna for example (battered around the edges but still eatable after years). So… what did it matter if his expiring date had finally caught up with him now?

Nothing.

As long as Claude knew that Noah and Claire were safe…

Nothing mattered besides that.

So when a smug company agent, about half Claude's age and just barely allowed to cross the street without mommy or daddy holding his hand, entered Claude's cell eventually, he'd made peace with his fate. He couldn't even be bothered to listen to the threats the kid let loose.

The only time Claude's ears did perk up in interest was when the agent announced that Mrs. Petrelli wanted to speak to him for one last time (or so the bloody toddler agent smirked).

What could Angela Petrelli want from him again? There was nothing else they could possibly have a shared interest in, was there?

Well, perhaps she expected him to share information on Noah's next move, now that he had to be on the run again. But… Claude wouldn't for the life of it tell her anything. Never mind that there wasn't anything he really could tell.

He and Noah hadn't yet come around to making plans for their next move if (when) the worst case were ever to happen. Like now. He'd no idea where Noah would be headed next. And Claude had every intention of telling Mrs. Petrelli just that, no matter what threats the woman would come up with.

He was prepared for the worst.

But what he absolutely wasn't prepared for was Angela Petrelli walking purposefully up to him now and pointing at his chained hands. She unlocked the handcuffs in a sure but quick motion and then silently motioned for him to get up from the cot.

When Claude didn't move she sighed and threw a pointed look at her golden wrist-watch.

"Claude, we have a flight to catch."

Claude stared at Angela Petrelli for a second before his lips quirked upwards mockingly. "So is this the mini-break that I always wanted to take? No? A condemned double-agent's last wish before he's put down? What?"

"Claude," Angela stated calmly, "do you want to continue with this or do you want to walk out of here a free man?"

"What?" Claude kept staring at Angela's face. Her dead serious face, he could tell. "You're gonna spring me out now? Tsk, I don't think that's anywhere in the company's protocol for agents-turned-traitors."

"As you well know, company protocol doesn't concern me. And right now…" Angela eyed him levelly. "Let's just say, Claude, that right now I prefer to follow my own protocol above anything else. So, what do you say to a trip to Las Vegas to meet my sons and… whoever might happen to be in their company?"

Claude stared back at her silently. Did she really mean what he thought she meant? He couldn't believe it. But then… what other alternative did he have? Staying here playing sitting duck until the company decided to take him out? Not bloody likely!

So after a while he stood up from the cot, took a slightly over-the-top bow and smirked: "Well, then I figure it's my bloody cue to say: Lead the way, Mrs. Petrelli."

"Good answer, Claude," Angela smiled coldly and walked out of the cell. In the door frame the woman turned around and fixed him with another glare. It took Claude a while to realize what she wanted but then he quickly pulled his trick and the satisfied nod Angela gave showed him that he'd become invisible to her eyes.

She turned on the spot and strode along the empty corridors then. Claude followed warily, anticipating something bad to happen every second despite his trick. But it seemed that the company had other problems for now because the odd pair made it out of the building and into the small space of a waiting helicopter without incident.

Claude remained invisible and Angela didn't acknowledge his presence anyhow when she ordered the pilot to start the engines and steer the vehicle into the air. During the flight Claude pinched his own arm a few times to convince himself that he wasn't dreaming. But only when the helicopter had landed on a huge building surrounded by thousands of blinking Casino lights did he dare to start believing.

Angela Petrelli had brought him to Vegas. Could this really be happening?

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**TBC**

_It may take me a few days more to update this because I'm not yet happy with the next chapter. I'll try rewriting it and then you're gonna get it as soon as it's finished. Review this first, please._


	8. Chapter 8

_Big thanks to **empath89** who managed to set my head straight on the whole reviewing thing. You're right, this is the easiest way. I'd also like to thank **Tera Earth, CassandraAlice, tam, Mary-Marie and hey there you,** who read and reviewed this story or the prequel. It's for people like you that I write for._

_Enjoy this second to last chapter._

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**Chapter Eight**

_The Petrelli's apartment, Las Vegas_

Food and rest, that's what all three men had agreed on when they'd moved the reunion into the comfortable sitting room.

Nathan had called pizza service (and Peter had to remind himself later to mark this day with a big red X in his calendar because… that was definitely a first. He couldn't remember Nathan ever having ordered something as ordinary as pizza before!).

So now they were seated around boxes full of delicious hot pizza, munching away the stress of the past hours, and Peter threw fond glances at the small girl by his side from time to time. Claire was seated between himself and her dad (the surrogate one, of course) and although her eyes seemed to droop several times and she'd long since stopped eating the girl kept herself awake determinedly.

Peter couldn't begin to understand what millions of thoughts must tumble through her head right now. She'd obviously known before today that Bennet was 'only' her surrogate father, Peter had realized that quickly, but still… suddenly being confronted with her birth father, and the action-filled way in which it had come to pass, that couldn't have been easy for Claire at all. The girl must be confused as hell right now, Peter assumed.

And Nathan?

He didn't seem to be doing much better, if the puzzled and beaten look on his face was any indication. Peter had noticed that his brother had yet to address Claire directly. He seemed to be at a loss for words, and for the usually so levelheaded and self-assured Nathan that had to be a truly uncomfortable feeling.

But Peter had no idea how to help him deal for now. What could you say to the nine-year-old daughter that you'd never met before? 'Hi, I'm your dad, sorry for not meeting you sooner, how've you been so far?' Not so much the best idea, Peter knew.

Nathan seemed to be thinking along the same road, for Peter had heard him several times take a breath as if to speak, only to sigh and quickly take another bite of pizza.

Okay, this wouldn't do. Peter threw a look at the girl next to him and nudged her side. "So, Claire… you probably have a lot of questions for Nathan, right?"

He could feel both Nathan and Bennet glare at him but Peter kept his gaze trained on Claire.

"Ugh, yeah… a few," the girl replied with a shy look to where Nathan was seated opposite from her.

"Well then, shoot," Peter encouraged his niece with a sly grin.

"Are you sure?" Claire asked hesitantly and finally Nathan faced his daughter and shrugged quickly. "Sure, now's as good a time as any."

"Okay, ugh… can I fly, too?"

"What?" Nathan frowned surprised. Not the kind of question he'd expected but… considering what the girl had witnessed over the course of the last few hours, it was only justified, right?

"Peter said he got the flying from you, so I thought, perhaps…"

"I don't think it works that way, Claire-Bear," Bennet threw in before Nathan could come up with anything. He glared at the older man, not liking the answer, although he'd wanted to say the exact same thing. But Bennet didn't know that, did he?

"Peter didn't inherit the ability from me, Claire, he just, well…" Nathan broke off, unsure how to phrase it.

"Oh, you mean he copied it?" Claire understood at once and Bennet had to suppress a smile seeing the dumbfounded look on Petrelli's face. Ha, hadn't thought his daughter to be that clever, huh?

"Something like that, yeah!" Peter grinned down at his niece. "That's what I can do, I copy other people's abilities."

"So, do I have an ability, too? Maybe I can do other stuff…" Claire's eager voice was cut off by Bennet placing a hand on her arm.

"Claire, that's enough," Bennet's voice was firm and it rang with finality.

"But…"

"No, I'm sure there are other things you'd like to know about Petrelli."

"You know what, Bennet," Nathan groused. "First of all, I understand why you'd have a problem with calling me her dad, even if that's what I am, but could you at least try to call me something other than Petrelli in front of her? The name is Nathan and…" his gaze swept to Claire with a slight smile, "I think you both should call me that, for now."

"Okay," the little girl nodded and looked up to Bennet who stared at Nathan silently. "Dad?"

"Alright," Bennet finally nodded. Nathan watched him for a while longer, waiting for the man to offer the use of his first name, too but… well, no such luck.

"Well, suit yourself, Bennet!" Nathan grumbled before his eyes took on a darker glint and he continued: "Oh, and by the way, Claire can ask me anything she likes, so if she wants to know more about our abilities then…"

"No!" Bennet stood up from the couch and glared down at Nathan. "I didn't protect her from the company all those years only for you to come along and put her in danger again! She shouldn't… she's too young to…"

"Dad?" Claire tried to get Bennet's attention by pulling his sleeve but Bennet kept his gaze locked on Nathan the whole time.

And suddenly Nathan understood. He was about to voice his thoughts, namely that Bennet must know about Claire having an ability, when he suddenly remembered the man's words from before. 'Keep your tongue in check around Claire…'

Nathan quickly thought about it. Claire obviously didn't know yet that she had an ability and it wouldn't do for her to find out right now. The small girl had heard enough life-altering things for one day.

Nathan took a deep breath and stared into Bennet's piercing eyes. Then he nodded silently and turned to his daughter again.

"Claire, I'm sure there are other things you'd like to know about me, alright?" He smiled at her and noticed out of the corner of his eyes Bennet sitting down again, a relieved sigh escaping his tight lips. They would talk about this later.

"Ugh, yeah," Claire mumbled, "what about my mommy? Do I have one?"

Shit. Both Nathan and Bennet closed their eyes for a second, not sure how to answer that. Eventually it was Bennet who addressed his daughter.

"Of course you had a mother, sweetheart. But she died when you were little."

"How?"

"There was an accident, Claire," Bennet pulled his daughter into his arms and she snuggled up to his side. "She died in a fire seven years ago. Her name was Meredith and she was beautiful like you."

Nathan silently watched them from his position, glad for perhaps the first time since this whole thing had started, that there was someone else taking over for now. He wouldn't have known how to handle these things on his own.

He wasn't prepared to deal with the small girl's questions, Nathan realized all of a sudden. No matter how many times Nathan had imagined this situation in the past, now that it was there… he was out of his depths. And truly glad for any help he could get.

Even if the person to give said help was Bennet.

* * *

Some time later Bennet looked up from the sheet of paper he'd been working on for at least an hour and his bleary eyes traveled over to his daughter. Claire was currently sitting cross-legged on the couch, sifting through some photo books Peter had dug out from somewhere in the apartment. Apparently the Petrelli's kept a few personal things there although Nathan had assured earlier that their parents never used this pace.

Odd, but… whatever.

So now Claire and Peter were busy sifting through the pictures and the young man had one story or another for every picture he was showing to Claire.

Bennet let out a deep sigh. God, he was so damn tired! He'd love nothing more than to lie down and close his eyes but… he needed to come up with a plan, now! He hadn't been able to dig up much yet, his thoughts were too jumbled and everything seemed to end up at a dead end. If he could just… God, he was too tired to think of anything now.

And the damn comfy-chair he had folded his tall form into for now was definitely not helping at all! It sure as hell didn't deserve its name. It wasn't comfy at all, at least not enough to fall asleep in, confining as it was to his long limbs.

Well, and since Peter and Claire were currently taking up all the space on the couch…

"Claire," Bennet said at last, "I think it's time for you to go to sleep."

Claire looked up from the photo book and shook her head determinedly. "No, Dad! Please, just a little bit longer. I'm not tired at all."

"How can you not be tired, sweetheart? After everything…"

"Dad, I'm really not tired!" Claire whined. "Please, Peter was just telling this funny story…"

"Mr. Bennet," Peter cut in suddenly, "I really don't mind staying up with her for a little while longer. But you could use some rest, you look… well, you really look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet," Peter smiled sheepishly and Noah suddenly found it strange to be addressed by him as Mr. Bennet. He was about to do something about that, offer the use of his first name to this young man who was, after all, his daughter's uncle, but then Claire pulled Peter's attention to herself again and before he could say anything the two were engrossed in another fascinating conversation about whatever.

Bennet sighed again.

Peter's offer to look after Claire while he'd try to get some rest had been generous enough and under different circumstances he'd have long since taken him up on it and gone to bed but…

See, the problem was that the small apartment had only one of those.

One bedroom with one bed in it.

And Bennet didn't know for sure but he would take any bet that Nathan was taking up that space right now. The elder brother had, after a trip to the bathroom earlier, simply not returned to the room and Bennet assumed he must have taken a turn for the bedroom instead.

Well, either that or he'd collapsed while finishing his business in the bathroom.

Noah let out another sigh, threw one last look over to Claire and then heaved his stiff body up into a standing position. His joints creaked dangerously when he dragged his feet over the carpet out of the room.

Both the bathroom door and the one leading to the bedroom were closed and Noah actually knocked once before he stuck his head into the bathroom.

No Nathan lay passed out on the floor. Not that he'd been worried or anything… no.

Noah quickly took care of his business and while he washed his hands afterwards he threw a look into the mirror again, just like he'd done a few hours ago.

Nothing had changed, he still wasn't sure he recognized himself anywhere in the pale face that stared back at him. Blue eyes, barely open, were circled by dark rings all around and especially his slightly swollen nose and the bruises on his left eye gave him a rather rogue and dangerous look.

Criminal, kidnapper, serial killer… hadn't that been what Petrelli had accused him of? Well, Noah could sure as hell imagine anyone thinking that now, with the way he looked.

Still, he somehow hoped that Petrelli had come to understand… things weren't always just black or white, good or evil. People weren't either criminals or saints with nothing in between.

The world didn't work like that and Noah hoped that Petrelli had come around enough to see that there was, indeed, a lot of gray in the world. And in people.

Noah had known that for years. And not only the morally gray that he'd once assured to be comfortable with, a lifetime ago, in Thompson's office…

People did things, questionable things, not because they were evil and liked to do them (well, apart from some, like Thompson perhaps). No, most people did questionable things because they had no other choice left.

And Noah had done a lot of questionable things, many of them having to do with Claire and therefore Nathan by proxy. He'd been everything Nathan had accused him of, one time or another in his life. Criminal, kidnapper, serial killer.

But above all else he'd also been one other thing: a father who'd tried to protect his little girl by all means. Noah just hoped that one day Nathan would realize that and maybe add it to the list.

* * *

When he finally left the bathroom Noah walked up to the bedroom and, without conscious thought or plausible reason, cautiously peeked inside.

And, sure enough, there Nathan was, deeply asleep on the king-size bed that dominated the room. He hadn't turned off the light and the soft orange glow of the bedside lamp crept over his face and softened the sharp features visibly.

Noah stepped inside and closed the door without making any sound. He crept closer to the foot of the bed and noticed that Nathan hadn't even managed to take off his slacks all the way before he'd fallen asleep. One half of it lay on the ground while the other was still bunched around his right leg, stuck out from under the bedcovers Nathan had only barely come around to pull over his body.

He must have been as tired as Noah felt right now.

Nathan had come to lie on his back, with his face turned slightly to the right, and Noah watched the bare chest heave and fall in a deep and even rhythm and was nearly lulled to sleep while still standing there staring at the man.

Eventually Noah shrugged and sat down on the edge of the bed. He pulled off his shoes and then started on his shirt buttons.

"What do you think you're doing, Bennet?"

Nathan's voice was rough from sleep but still annoyed, Noah noticed. He simply shrugged his shoulders, a gesture completely lost on Nathan since he hadn't opened his eyes, and continued to pull off his shirt. Then he stood up to take off his trousers. That's when he noticed that Nathan had his eyes still closed.

Before he could stop himself Noah asked: "How did you know I'm not Peter?"

"Peter would have let loose at least six idiotic statements by now," Nathan answered promptly and Noah saw his mouth quirk the tiniest bit. "Also, the mattress wouldn't have dipped that far."

"Are you saying I'm fat? You shock me, Nathan!" Bennet smirked and sat down on the bed again.

"That's the first time I've heard you say my name," Nathan replied sleepily and somewhat perplexed. His head lolled to the left and finally he sprang one eye open to watch Bennet climb into the bed.

"Once again I ask, Bennet. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Move over," Bennet replied and shoved Nathan's arm out of the way. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to bed." He stretched out on his back with a content sigh.

The bed was big enough for there to be at least a few good inches of free space between them, and still… Nathan shifted to the far side immediately. He noticed that Bennet's eyes had closed as soon as his head had hit the soft pillow underneath.

"You're going to bed? Here?"

"Do you have another bed hidden somewhere in a closet? I doubt it, so… yeah, here!"

"The hell you are!" Nathan's voice rose slightly. "I'm not sleeping with you here!"

Noah cracked one eye open and turned his head. "Well, then you lie awake with me here, see how much I care!" And he closed his eye again.

"Bennet," Nathan growled low in his throat. He could feel the adrenaline charge his tired body again, the pulse was starting to rush through his veins and his heartbeat quickened. This man was impossible! Absolutely crazy!

"Bennet!" he let out again when the man hadn't moved.

"Shut up and go to sleep," Bennet gave back and then a big yawn overtook him. Once his mouth was able to obey him again he added: "I need sleep and so do you! I've been trying to come up with a plan for the last hour but I'm too tired to think straight. So let me get a few hours of rest, okay? The sooner you let me do that, the sooner I'll be able to think of something to get this mess sorted. And then you can go back to your life."

"What?" Nathan's eyes flew open and he stared at Bennet from the side. "You think I could go back to New York and my job and… as if nothing ever happened? Are you nuts?"

"No, tired! So could you please save your pillow-talk for tomorrow?" Bennet replied and turned onto his left side. Nathan watched the broad back settle down more comfortably. The white undershirt stretched over taught muscles and then one hand reached behind to pull the comforter higher up. Nathan felt his own body become exposed in the process and he shot out a hand to hold onto the bedcovers.

"Give 'em back!" he growled at once, not caring that he probably sounded like a petulant child. He tucked harder at the garment in his hands.

The movement propelled Bennet onto his back again, closer to Nathan than before, and the comforter was firmly clutched in his hand. He eyed Nathan closely before he smirked: "Now I know where Claire got that adorable pout from!"

Nathan blinked, completely taken aback by the sudden change in Bennet's mood. Before he could come up with a reply though Bennet went on teasingly: "Though I wouldn't have taken you for one of the 'hoggin all the covers' club, Nathan! What is it you're hiding under… there?" The last word was accompanied by a dirty leer down Nathan's body.

Nathan couldn't stop his eyes from following Bennet's gaze down (not that there was anything to see, mind you). He quickly looked up again and stared into Bennet's smirking face.

Against his will Nathan's lips twisted into a smile. "You know, Bennet," he drawled and all of a sudden let go of the bedcovers, "for someone who claims to be straight as a pole you surely know how to flirt." He shifted his body onto his back again and lifted his arms to cross them under his head. Then he risked a glance at the man by his side.

Bennet looked at the hazel eyes that bore into him from under ridiculously long lashes and grinned. "You call this flirting? Man, you haven't gotten around much, have you?"

"Around gays? Thanks, I've had my share."

"My fill of losing," Bennet replied softly and Nathan blinked confused. "What?" Had the man completely lost his mind now?

"Oh, you know… 'I've had my share, my fill of losing,'…" Bennet smiled at him from barely opened eyes. "Frank Sinatra? My way? Come on, don't tell me you don't know…"

"Of course I know 'My Way', you idiot!" Nathan exclaimed and leaned up on one elbow. "What I'm not getting here is why you'd start reciting lyrics all of a sudden! Don't tell me you're gonna sing me a serenade now, Bennet!"

Bennet closed his eyes and sighed. "I would if I knew that it would put you to sleep. But… God, I'm so damn tired right now that stupid things like that actually make sense in my head."

"Okay, now I'm convinced," Nathan leaned back down and reached for the bedside lamp. "You need to sleep this off. Now." He switched off the light and at once the room was wrapped in complete darkness.

"Oh, thank God," Bennet sighed and let his body relax into the mattress.

"Shut up and go to sleep," Nathan groused and turned onto his right side. He was just about to drift off when Bennet suddenly whispered: "Nathan?"

"What now, Bennet?" Nathan prepared himself for another stupid remark but what he got instead simply turned him speechless.

"Call me Noah, okay?"

* * *

**TBC**

_Did anyone get the 'hoggin all the covers' reference? No, guess not, it was rather lame as far as references go._

'_Hoggin all the covers' is the title of an album by "The Band From TV" (with Greg Grunberg and Hugh Laurie). And Adrian Pasdar (Nathan) plays the guitar. Lame, I know! But that's just the weirdness of my mind._

_I still haven't finished the last chapter, so it may take a few more days for this story to be complete. Please let me know what you think in the meantime. I'm also always open to suggestions on what you'd like to see happen next. Let me know, okay?_


	9. Chapter 9

_I'm terribly sorry it took me so long to update. I seem to have encountered another bad writer's block because I couldn't for the life of it figure out how to go on._

_This is not the end of Part Two as I'd originally planned but a short chapter to give you anything at all. I'll try to write the last chapter today, in the meantime enjoy this short scene._

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter Nine**

_The Petrelli's apartment, Las Vegas_

"You know, Claude," Angela Petrelli stated with a slightly amused look to where she assumed him to be, "you could stop this now, you know?"

Claude, standing a few feet behind her in the halls, watched her silently dig a key out of her purse. He shrugged non-committal, a gesture completely unnecessary and pointless since he was still invisible to everyone's eyes.

Angela let out a soft sigh, shook her head once and then inserted the key into the lock on the polished apartment door. She opened the door and wordlessly stepped into the dark hall. Claude followed warily, not sure what to expect. He somehow still couldn't believe that this was actually happening.

Why would Angela Petrelli, company member – or even founder – and one really scary woman on top of that, ignore company policy and help a convicted traitor to flee? Why would she bring him here, to Las Vegas, where he hoped to find Noah and Claire alive and well after their flight from Prescott?

Why?

What was the woman's agenda?

Claude followed Angela into what seemed to be the posh apartment's sitting room. And the sight that greeted him there was enough to forget his worries about Angela's dubious motives for now. He actually forgot everything else, even holding on to his trick, and, becoming visible instantly, stared wide-eyed at the plush leather couch.

Or, better yet, at the two people cuddled together on said couch. There, covered by a thin blanket, lay a young man, his face obscured by long bangs of dark hair. And to his right, snuggled up equally against the back of the couch and his body, was…

"Claire?" Claude breathed out.

The small girl's head didn't move and her face stayed hidden in the man's armpit. But… that was his Claire, wasn't it? Claude stared on.

The young man had shifted a little at the sound of Claude's voice and now he suddenly pried his eyes open. They were brown, Claude noticed, and slightly familiar. They also turned huge in a matter of seconds.

"Mom?" the man gasped and stared at Angela. "What are you…?"

"Hello Peter," Angela nodded calmly and threw a casual look around. "Where's your brother?"

"Mom?" Peter repeated dumbfounded and sat up. Claire's head slid off his body and nestled more deeply into the cushions without waking up. Peter threw a quick look down at her and then cautiously slipped off the couch. He pulled the blanket more firmly around his niece's body before he turned back to the two people standing in the middle of the room. He fixed the stranger with a curious stare.

"Hey, don't I know you?" Peter took a step closer to Claude. "You're the invisible man! You're Claude!"

Before Claude had a chance to reply Peter had turned to his mother again. "You… you brought him here? Mom, what…?"

"Peter, where's your brother?" Angela simply asked again.

"And where's Noah?" Claude added.

"Noah?" Peter frowned briefly. "Oh, you mean Bennet? He's still sleeping. With Nathan." Then Peter's frown deepened and his lips quirked into an embarrassed smile. "Okay, that didn't come out right I guess. They're not… I mean, ugh."

"Bloody hell," Claude growled and his eyes flickered briefly around in search for the bedroom. He went back into the hall and his voice rose slightly. "Noah?"

* * *

Nathan woke up, not sure what had roused him from his surprisingly restful sleep, and took stock, inwardly.

He felt… good. Very much relaxed, and his body didn't ache so much anymore. Okay, sure… there was still a slight burning sensation above his left eye, the spot where the heavy tree branch had hit him, and Nathan could also feel some pain lingering in his muscles from the electric shock of the teaser gun. Not to mention from the hours of flight with his heavy burden.

But other than that… nope, he felt surprisingly light.

The bone-deep weariness from before had vanished, as well as the feeling of uneasiness in his guts. Last night he'd felt the awkwardness and discomfort of the new situation settle around his insides like a tight knot, threatening to strangle him from within. The sudden confrontation with his long-lost daughter, not to mention the irritating attitude of her surrogate father, and the disturbing knowledge that his own mother had to have had a hand in all this shit…

Nathan had felt all of it settle in his guts and throat like lead until he'd thought he would choke on it. But now… well. Nathan didn't know any better how to deal with this situation after his good night's sleep, and yet, something had changed.

He felt… he felt like all of a sudden he didn't have to figure all this out by himself anymore.

In the past, whenever there'd been a problem, he'd learned to deal with it on his own. Or, more times than he cared to admit, he'd learned how to ignore it, if it proved too complex to solve. Or not profitable enough.

And on top of that he'd constantly had to deal with Peter and his hero-complex one way or another. His brother had relied on him, naturally, like he'd done all his life.

Nathan had tried to bear it all alone because there hadn't been anyone else he could have trusted it with. There hadn't been anyone who he'd felt would deal with this kind of shit in the same way than he would. There hadn't been anyone Nathan knew who understood his way of dealing with things, who understood his way of thinking.

There had never been anyone who simply was like him.

Until now.

And wasn't this just crazy?

Nathan lifted his head from where it rested on the soft pillow and threw a look at the sleeping man to his left. Bennet – Noah, Nathan remembered with a grin – was lying on his back, one arm stuck under his head as a pillow and the other resting comfortably on his stomach. His eyes were closed and Nathan watched the relaxed features silently.

Wasn't it crazy that this man now, the one that Nathan had hated for years like no one else, who had haunted him in his most vivid nightmares, who Nathan had countless times dreamed of killing once he'd finally found him…

Wasn't it the most crazy thing in this world that Nathan had suddenly come to realize he'd finally found an equal? A kindred spirit, someone who thought like him, planned things like him, acted like him…

A mirror image, his other side of the coin?

Yes, Nathan knew it. It was the craziest thing in the world, and yet… that didn't make it any less true.

Noah Bennet was all that. And perhaps…

Nathan was pulled from this strangely out-of-character introspection, from his epiphany, by sudden voices that floated into the bedroom from outside.

Huh?

Who was it that Peter seemed to be talking to? Was that… wasn't that his mother's sharp voice Nathan recognized there? He sat up and looked around for his clothes. Noah didn't stir once, Nathan noticed.

He was busy fishing for his slacks when suddenly an unfamiliar voice drifted through the closed door, like from directly behind.

"Noah?" the male voice inquired, and Nathan frowned. Who was that?

Nathan pulled his slacks on and went to the door. He opened it and came face to face with a man he recognized at once. This was the man he'd seen on the picture out of Noah's wallet yesterday. This was Claude.

"Is he in there?" Claude shoved Nathan aside unceremoniously and entered the bedroom. "Noah!"

Bennet's eyes flew open at once. "What… Claude?" He stared at the man rushing up to him and repeated dumbfounded: "Claude?"

Nathan watched Noah jump from the mattress and right into the man's waiting arms. The force of their embrace let both men lose their balance and they tumbled onto the bed in a happily laughing heap.

"Oh my God, Claude…" Noah laughed into Claude's neck and squeezed him tight. Claude seemed to want to simply melt into the man under him. "Noah," he sighed over and over again.

Nathan watched them silently from his spot by the door. He felt completely out of place, like an intruder to a scene he had no business witnessing at all.

With one last look and a suddenly very tight throat Nathan turned on his heels and left. His throat constricted even more when he encountered his mother in the sitting room.

"Nathan," she greeted him with a smile and came closer. She put both hands onto his shoulders and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Nathan came out of his stupor and pushed her away.

"Don't…" Nathan spat and took two steps back. He glared into Angela's smiling face and then turned around. He pulled at his hair in frustration. "I can't even look at you, mom!"

"Now, Nathan," Angela reproached, "don't be ridiculous."

"What?" Nathan spun around again. "Do you have any idea what I've been through? You don't…"

"As a matter of fact I do, Nathan. I've dreamed it. That's why I'm here."

Angela sat down in the comfy chair and crossed her legs in the same calm and elegant way Nathan had seen her do a hundred times before. But it had never made him as angry as now.

"You had a dream about this?" Peter suddenly asked his mother. He crouched down next to her and took hold of her hand. Then he turned his head around to throw a look at his brother, silently pleading him to calm down and listen to her.

Nathan glared down at them and shook his head in disbelief. After everything that had happened, after everything they'd learned about their mother's involvement in all this, Peter would still choose to listen to her? To believe anything she had to say?

Why?

Why was it that his little brother always believed in the goodness in people when all the evidence pointed in the opposite direction? Was Peter really that naïve? Or simply too good for this world?

Nathan watched his brother share a tender moment with his mother before he threw a quick look back to the bedroom from where he could hear softly spoken words and warm laughter.

Nathan had never felt more alone and out of place.

With one last look around he fled into the only vacant space left. The sound of the slammed bathroom door echoed loudly through the apartment.

* * *

**TBC**

_I'm sorry that I couldn't come up with more for now. But I have had enormous trouble writing Nathan ever since I've started watching Season Three and Four online. I still can't wrap my mind around the brutal truth of the storyline the writers thought out for my favorite person of the show. I tried to make my peace with it by writing the one-shot "Missing" a while ago... it didn't work. I still can't believe it. I don't want to. That's why I have trouble continuing this story. But I promise I will get over my shocked disappointment and finish this story. I owe you readers that much._

_Please be patient with me, the happy end will follow soon.  
_


	10. Chapter 10

_So, this is it. The end of Part Two of my Patchwork Family Series. I hope this will clear things up for you and I also hope that it will make you want to read Part Three: The Road To Happiness, coming eventually._

_But first enjoy this semi-happy-ending. Many thanks to all those anonymous reviewers, I'm sorry that I couldn't answer your comments. This is for you._

_

* * *

  
_

**Chapter Ten**

The knock was too hesitant to be coming from his mother and so Nathan figured it would be safe to open the bathroom door without running the risk to encounter the last person he wanted to see right now.

He threw one last look into the mirror and, just when the second knock came even more softly than before, Nathan turned the key. He opened the door to find Claire on the other side, no longer dressed in her pink nightshirt but surprisingly clad in well-fitting jeans and a lilac jumper. The small girl was nervously biting her lower lip and her blue eyes seemed huge and somewhat frightened.

"Claire," Nathan opened the door wider and tried to force a smile onto his face.

"Ugh, sorry but I need to… ugh," she shifted her small feet restlessly and looked to the ground.

"Oh," Nathan exclaimed when he understood. "Sure, sorry!"

He stepped outside and Claire dashed past him in a hurry. Nathan closed the door behind her, took a steadying breath and then made his way over to the sitting room. His mother was still sitting in the comfortable armchair, a cup of tea balanced elegantly on her slender legs. Nathan looked over to the couch and found Noah and his friend – Claude, Nathan remembered – seated closely side by side. Each of them had a cup placed in front of them on the coffee table. Peter had made himself comfortable on the floor, he too had a mug of tea or coffee or whatever balanced on his knee.

The conversation seemed to cease at once when Nathan entered and he felt every pair of eyes stare up at him. Without a word Nathan went over to the small kitchenette and fetched himself a cup of coffee.

The first hot sip nearly burned his constricted throat but nevertheless Nathan gulped down half of his cup in one go. He needed to focus on something other than the strange feeling of betrayal that had taken up residence inside of him and he figured the pain from too hot coffee was better than any other kind of pain he might be feeling right now.

Eventually Nathan turned back to the people still staring at him in united silence.

"Come sit down, Nathan," Angela patted the armrest of her chair but Nathan simply sent her a pointed glare and lowered his body onto the ground. He rested his back against the wall farthest away from her. He knew that he was probably behaving like a rebellious child right now but… he couldn't help it.

Nathan continued to sip his coffee and the uncomfortable silence lasted until Claire returned from the bathroom. She walked around Nathan, careful not to step onto his outstretched legs, and squeezed her small self between Noah and Claude on the couch.

"Come here, pumpkin," Claude smiled and pulled the girl onto his lap. Claire immediately complied and put her short legs on each side over Claude's knees. She leaned back into his broad chest and pulled the man's arms tightly around her body. Nathan watched the happy smile spread over her face and knew he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

And this angel was his daughter!

Nathan's throat constricted even more. Would she ever hug him like that? Would she ever feel that content and at ease with him? Or had he already missed his chance? He closed his eyes for a brief moment and when he opened them again he found Peter looking at him from across the coffee table with big brown eyes full of warmth and understanding.

And suddenly Nathan felt something inside his chest jump and the tight knot that had formed in his guts melted away instantly. He sent Peter a tentative smile full of gratitude.

No matter what happened next, Nathan suddenly knew for sure that he'd always have Peter to count on.

Nathan's eyes traveled over to Noah on the couch and the stare that he'd thought to be offensive and cold earlier suddenly seemed a lot less so.

Instead he detected something that could only be described as nervous apprehension and Nathan realized at once that he wasn't the only one whose life had been turned upside-down in a matter of mere hours. Finally it dawned on him that from Noah's perspective the situation must look a lot more dire than whatever Nathan was going through right now.

The man had lost his home as well as his job (whatever it was he'd been employed to do for the Steiners) and from what Nathan understood it hadn't been the first time. Years ago Noah had already been forced to leave his old life behind after his wife had been murdered. He'd been forced into hiding from the people he'd worked for, people he must have trusted to some extend, and he'd had to raise a child all on his own…

A child that wasn't his flesh and blood but that he'd obviously come to love very much. Claire had become Noah's daughter in every sense of the word and he'd tried to protect her from the company with all his might. And it seemed that Noah had done a hell of a job until…

Until suddenly Nathan had come out of nowhere and with him not only the threat of losing his daughter but also his entire life by suddenly being discovered by the company. Those agents showing up there and then couldn't have been a coincidence now, could it?

No, Nathan was sure that he was at least partly responsible for shaking up Bennet's life, if only through his mother's visions of the future.

Although, Nathan realized all of a sudden, he still didn't know what exactly had been going on these past few days. He strongly suspected his mother's hand in all of it, that much was proven by her mere presence now, but… how had the agents found out about Bennet? And what exactly had it been that his mother had seen in her dream?

Nathan let his eyes travel to Angela and he broke the silence at last. "What precisely did you see in your vision, Ma?"

Angela looked up from her cup of tea and faced her eldest with a slight smile. "This is exactly what I saw, Nathan. All of us, sitting here together like this. Like family."

Before Nathan could so much as frown Claude suddenly exclaimed: "Oh, bollocks!"

Everyone stared at him questioningly and Claire, still seated on his lap, craned her neck to look at her Uncle Claude in shock.

"What?" Claude shrugged carelessly and looked from Noah to Nathan and back. "You don't actually believe that bullshit, do you? That's a bloody joke!"

"And why is that, Claude?" Angela inquired calmly and leaned forward to set the cup onto the table.

"Because you were the one that sent the agents after Noah in the first place!" Claude stated with a raised eyebrow, daring her to deny it. "I heard you order it! So don't tell me you staged all that to promote this cute little family reunion!"

"Well, believe it or not, but that's exactly what I did. I staged it. And a lot more than just this. For years and years this has been in the making and now the time has come to finally reunite this family," Angela's voice was calm and soft and everybody listened to her in rapt attention. "All of this started nearly seven years ago, shortly after the fire in Texas."

"A fire that you obviously caused yourself by ordering them to go after Meredith, didn't you, Ma?" Nathan's voice was as calm as Angela's and yet there was an underlying danger in it that everyone apart from Claire picked up on.

Angela wasn't fazed in the slightest but continued, her eyes never leaving Nathan's: "That woman was a threat herself, Nathan. Don't you see that? She's dangerous. You saw for yourself what she did to the apartment that night. It wouldn't have been safe for Claire to be raised by her, even with her ability to… never mind."

"What? What is it I can do?" Claire's excited question was overridden by Nathan's furious outburst: "So you had her killed just because you didn't see her fit to raise our daughter?"

"She's not dead, Nathan."

"What?" Nathan stared at his mother and everyone else also looked at her in shock.

"Meredith is still alive. She's a fire-starter, so… her ability makes her immune to fire as well. She survived and she ran away to Mexico, Nathan. She left Claire behind that night."

"Why should I believe you?" Nathan ground out when he'd found his voice again.

Angela simply shrugged. "Claude?"

All eyes traveled to the Englishman then. "She's right," he admitted at last. "Apparently the company kept tabs on Meredith all those years. I found out about a year or so ago."

"And you didn't tell me?" Noah stared at the man by his side in shocked hurt. "Why, Claude?"

"Because I bloody knew you'd feel guilty enough to do something about it!" Claude shook his head and tightened his grip on Claire. "You'd have gone and done something stupid, like contact her, and then she'd come and tried to take our princess away from us and I wouldn't have been able to do a sodding thing about it because I wasn't there with you!"

Noah's eyes softened a bit when he looked at Claire, comfortably snuggled in her favorite Uncle's arms. Then his gaze locked back on Claude's serious face. "Still, you should have told me, Claude."

"Daddy?" Claire's voice was feeble and hesitant, as if she didn't dare to speak up when the grown-ups were talking about things she didn't understand the half of. But, was it true? Her mommy wasn't dead? That much she'd understood just now.

"So my real mommy isn't dead?"

Angela was the first to answer. "No Claire," she smiled, "your mother is living in Mexico. But she ran away and left you…"

"That's enough, Ma!" Nathan exclaimed enraged.

Angela went on as if he hadn't said a word. "And I arranged for you to be adopted by the Bennets."

"Why?" Claire asked and turned to Nathan. "Why, didn't you… didn't you want me?"

"No!" Nathan saw the tears form in the small girl's eyes and quickly clarified: "No, Claire! I wanted you! I looked for you for months after the fire, I did!" His voice nearly broke when he remembered the desperate search he'd done for his daughter then and he gulped heavily. "Claire, you have to believe me, I did everything I could to find you but… you were simply gone! And I… damn it, I didn't know what to do, where else to look! I didn't know about any of this!"

Nathan leaned forward and reached out to place a hand onto the small girl's knee. He gave it a tentative squeeze and looked at her openly. "Please Claire, believe me."

"Okay," Claire nodded cautiously. "But I don't understand…"

"Neither do I," Nathan turned to his mother again and glared at her. "Why, Ma? Why go through that much trouble, why hide all of this from me… why?"

Angela let out a soft sigh and shook her head slightly. "Because of the dream I had back then." She threw a quick glance at her youngest son, the one most likely to understand what she was talking about. Peter knew what those dreams were like and so he was the only one who could understand… You simply couldn't change those dreams.

Angela knew that at some point in his life Peter had to have experienced the same devastation she'd gone through when she'd been younger, more naïve and desperate to save the world. That had been back when she'd still believed the future could be altered.

Peter, just like herself, had to have learned the hard way that you could only try to manipulate the way in which the future would come to pass, but not the future itself.

The dreams' outcome could not be altered, no matter how hard you'd try. People on the other hand could be manipulated, they could be shoved in the right direction for the dreams to come true.

That's what Angela had done. And she could only hope to somehow convince Nathan and everybody else in this room of it.

"Peter," Angela addressed her youngest eventually, "you know what those dreams are like. You know they can't be changed."

Peter nodded silently. He remembered the times when he'd been a child full of hope and determined to become a hero, and his attempts to alter what he'd seen in his dreams. They'd all been futile. The fire in Texas, the flayed corpse of a man… he hadn't been able to change anything, no matter how hard he'd tried.

By the time Peter had turned sixteen he'd finally understood. The dreams could not be changed, only the way in which they'd come to pass could be manipulated. He'd tried to accept that and had acted accordingly. In the past three years there'd only been two times when Peter had ignored what he knew and had tried to alter what he'd dreamed of.

Both events had involved Nathan, naturally. Nathan had always been the most important person to him and, no matter what, Peter would never let his beloved brother get hurt. Not if he could help it.

The problem was… he couldn't. Help it, that is.

Those two times… Peter had failed. And Nathan had gotten hurt because of it.

Shortly after his sixteenth birthday Peter had dreamed about Allison, Nathan's girlfriend at that time, screwing around behind Nathan's back. In the dream Nathan had walked in on her and some dark-haired guy. Peter hadn't told Nathan about it but, two days later, had taken all his guts and had gone over to Allison's place to talk to her. But instead of clearing things up and helping his brother Peter's interference had actually made it worse. Because suddenly Allison had come on to Peter. She'd tried to seduce him, force herself on him even… Peter hadn't known what hit him. He'd tried to fend her off, talk to her or whatever but he had been thrown completely off-guard and he hadn't had much experience with women at all. And Allison had proven to be quite persistent.

And then Nathan had walked in.

Peter had stared at his brother from where he'd been standing pressed into a wall by Allison. Nathan had stared back open-mouthed, had taken in Peter's opened shirt and Allison's hands all over his chest, Allison clad only in jeans and a very revealing bra… and Nathan had turned on his heels without a word and had stormed out of the apartment.

He hadn't talked to Peter for three weeks after that.

And the other incident, the only other time Peter had tried to change what he'd dreamed of, had been even worse.

Two years ago Peter had stopped Nathan from going on a sailing trip with some friends because he'd dreamed of Nathan in a hospital bed with half his face heavily bandaged. He'd been convinced that Nathan would get hurt on the boat if he'd go sailing and so he'd done something to make Nathan stay at home.

Peter had deliberately broken his leg, he'd jumped off the roof of his school's gym and the school's nurse had called Nathan because their parents had once again been unavailable. Peter had counted on that.

What he hadn't counted on was… Nathan not paying attention to the traffic in his hurry to get to his hurt little brother. He'd run straight into a car and had sliced his chin and neck open on the broken windshield. He'd nearly bled to death.

Peter, with his stupid leg in a stupid cast and finally released by the doctor, had wobbled his way over to Nathan's bedside in the hospital.

There he'd cried for hours at the sight of his brother's bandaged face.

That had been the day Peter had sworn to never ever interfere with his dreams again. Instead he'd tried to learn what he could from those dreams, had tried to talk the people involved into the right direction.

Like he'd done with Nathan a few days ago when he'd told him about his dream of Nathan sitting in a tree planning to kill someone. Peter had counted on Nathan calling him for help when the situation came. Because that way Peter would have a reason to rush to his brother's side. And Peter had known that he'd be needed in Prescott. He hadn't understood why at first, the dream had been hazy and confusing. He'd only known for sure that he was supposed to be there with Nathan. And of course Nathan would never have taken his little brother with him on a weekend trip to visit his future parents-in-law, not without a plausible reason, something Peter hadn't had…

So Peter had been forced to come up with something. If he'd simply planned on showing up out of the blue Nathan would have been furious and Peter hadn't wanted to find out what would happen then. He hadn't known why but he knew that he had to be by Nathan's side, and on Nathan's side as well.

Now Peter knew why.

He let a small smile grace his lips and looked up to where Claire was seated on Claude's lap. Peter had been needed in Prescott to save this little girl, his niece. Nathan would never have been able to save both her and her dad from those agents.

'Agents mom sent there to attack them in the first place,' Peter suddenly remembered with a frown. "Mom," he broke the silence at last, "I know that the dreams can't be altered but… I still don't understand why you'd send agents to Bennet's house."

"Where would you all be if I hadn't done that?" Angela asked and her eyes traveled over both her sons. "You two probably would have gone home again if Noah had succeeded in worming his way out of it. And if not, if you'd somehow found out about Claire, **you**," she fixed Nathan with a glare, "would have tried to kill him and **you**," now Peter received a look, "wouldn't have been able to stop your brother. Neither of you would have had any reason to regard Noah as anything but your enemy."

Angela watched her sons share a look of comprehension before she continued, her eyes now fixed on Noah. "And as for you, Noah Bennet, probably you'd have killed my sons and if not, well, I guess it's safe to say that either way you'd packed your bags and had taken Claire out of our reach for good."

Noah was stunned. How could this woman know so much about him? About what he would have done, how he would have reacted? Because… everything she'd said was true, he would have done exactly that.

"Well, Mrs. Know-It-All, what about me?" Claude asked into the silence. "Where am I in this cute little fantasy of yours?"

"Claude, do I really have to spell it out for you?" Angela smiled at him and took a quick sip of tea. She placed the cup back onto the table and crossed her arms. "If you hadn't heard me ordering a team to bag and tag Noah then you'd never have blown your cover. You'd still be with the company, trying, in vain may I add, to destroy it from the inside."

"Oh, and of course you couldn't let me do that now, could you? Not your company!" Claude raised an eyebrow and smirked. Of course the manipulative wrench had had an ulterior motive, one that had nothing to do with saving her precious family. But before Claude could voice his thoughts Angela continued.

"Of course I couldn't let you stay with the company, Claude. Not when both my sons' happiness depends on you being here with them."

"Huh?" Both Nathan and Peter frowned at her. "What's that supposed to mean, Ma?"

"That, Nathan, I'm afraid you have to discover for yourself. And you too, Peter." Angela smiled and in one swift movement stood up from her seat. Seeing the confused looks on her sons' faces she regretted for a moment that she couldn't tell them more. But… well, you couldn't just spring it on your sons that in the near future they would be falling in love with the other two men in the room now, could you? As much as Angela would enjoy to see the dumbfounded look on their faces if she were to tell them that… some things were better left unsaid.

Perhaps the time would come, some day, when they'd all be seated together again, like now. A time when they'd be talking and laughing and simply enjoying being together, like the family they truly were.

But the time wasn't there yet, Angela knew. She still had much to do, many loose ends to tie up, and her boys…

They still had a long way to go on the road to happiness.

'Well, better to set them on the right path now,' Angela thought with another smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, the helicopter's waiting for me on the roof."

"What?" Nathan exclaimed and stood up from the ground. "You're leaving?"

"I have to get back to Primatech-Paper," she smirked. "There's a miraculously escaped traitor on the loose and some agents just happened to screw up a simple enough bag-and-tag in Prescott, Arizona. I don't think Mr. Wilcox will be able to deal with those things on his own. So I figured I'd give him a hand."

Peter got up from the ground as well. "But… but what about us? I mean, what are we supposed to do now, mom?"

"Claude, we need to figure out a plan," Noah suddenly said, not caring much for the Petrelli's family-problems. For all he cared Angela Petrelli could take both her sons with her, and good riddance.

Not that he wasn't grateful for their help, mind you. Noah knew that without Nathan's (and Peter's) help he'd never be here right now, out of the company's grasp for now. He even owed Angela, Noah had to admit, for finally uniting him with the person who was most important to him (apart from Claire of course). Now Noah had his two loved ones by his side, safe and sound, and they needed to start making plans for the future.

"We need to find a safe place, we need money, clothes…"

"Oh, Noah?" Angela took two steps closer to the couch and smiled down on him. "I suggest you take a close look around the apartment. You'll find everything you need in the bedroom closet, clothes and such. The contents of the safe should hold your interest as well, there's money as well as a list of people who can help you."

"What?"

"Oh, and I took the liberty of procuring a car for you. It should have been brought down to the garage by now. Nathan knows where the keys are stored."

The five stunned looks she was receiving now were enough to compensate Angela for knowing she'd miss the moment they'd realize what she'd meant earlier about finding their happiness.

"Ugh, wait. What?" Peter was the first to work his way through his stupor. Surprisingly Claire followed suit right after him.

"You bought us a car?"

"Yes, dear." Angela smiled at her. "Consider it as my gift to make up for nine missed birthdays. Although technically the car belongs to your fathers. Both of them."

"Alright, Ma," Nathan had finally found his voice again and walked up to his mother. He took hold of her arm and steered her around to face him. "Let me get this straight: You knew we would all end up like this and so you bought clothes and whatnot and… stashed money here and… and not to forget a car… I mean, seriously?"

"I told you, Nathan. All of this has been for years in the making," Angela looked up with a warm smile and Nathan could see the apology shining from her brown eyes. He couldn't smile back yet.

"And now you expect us to what?"

"I expect you to do the right thing, Nathan. Get to know your daughter and the man that raised her. The two of you have much to talk about and… actually, I think you're very much alike. But I guess you already know that, right? So, Nathan. Talk to them, and take your time. You're safe, nobody will find them here."

Nathan scoffed: "What do you think this is, the fugitives' headquarters?"

"Exactly. Nathan, I bought this apartment for this one purpose only. Or why else did you think I've owned an apartment for seven years and never lived in it or rented it out?" Angela placed a hand onto Nathan's cheek and after a moment softly slapped him, a loving gesture usually reserved for Peter. Then she shook her head and leaned up to kiss the sting away.

Finally Nathan pulled her into a reluctant hug. "This is absolutely crazy, Ma."

"You're welcome," Angela replied and then turned to give her youngest the same goodbye.

Noah stood up from the couch just when she released Peter with a last "I love you!"

"Mrs. Petrelli, I don't…"

"First of all," Angela interrupted and came closer, "I think you should call me Angela. After all, we're family."

"Angela," Noah sighed with a headshake, "I still don't understand why you're doing this!"

Angela looked at him in silence for a moment before she took his arm and steered him away. "Come with me, Noah. I think we ought to talk in private for a minute."

The others watched them disappear in the hall and then the bedroom door fell closed after them.

"I'm hungry," Claire suddenly whispered into Claude's ear.

"Right you are, princess!" Claude smiled and gently shoved her off his lap to stand up. "Why don't we take a peek at the kitchen, hm? See if Mama Petrelli didn't forget to stock up the fridge in her fantastic preparations."

Claire let out a giggle and pulled Claude along with her. Peter's eyes followed them closely. He watched Claude pull open cupboard after cupboard, not bothering to close them again, while Claire's blond head nearly vanished inside the fridge.

Soon enough all sorts of eatable things appeared on the counter and still Claude continued to pull boxes of cereals and cookies from the shelves. The pile grew taller and taller.

"Bloody hell, that woman is a bloody boy scout!"

Peter simply grinned at his enthusiasm.

"So," Nathan had walked up to his brother. "What do you think?"

"He's great," Peter shook his head in amazement. Nathan took in Peter's expression, followed his gaze to the kitchenette and then looked back at his brother's face. He noticed Peter's eyes had never left Claude.

"Pete!" Nathan snapped his fingers in front of him.

"Huh?" Finally Peter faced his brother. "What?"

"You're staring!"

"So?"

"Pete," Nathan repeated and gave him the patented big-brother-glare complete with the raised eyebrow.

"Look at them, Nathan!" Peter jerked his head with a fond smile. "They're so cute together!"

Nathan threw a quick glance over. Claude had lifted Claire up so that she was seated on the counter, surrounded by cereals, cookies and crackers, and the small girl was currently munching with glee. Claude was leaning against the counter, also heavily chewing. "Cute, sure." Nathan commented and turned back to Peter. "But I wasn't talking about them. What do you think is going on in the bedroom?"

Peter's eyes grew huge and he nearly choked on his laughter.

"Nathan! You don't seriously think mom and Noah are…?"

"Oh, for God's sakes, Pete!" Nathan flinched and smacked his grinning brother over the head. "Get real! What do you think they're talking about?"

"I don't know," Peter tried to stifle his laughter. "More secrets I guess."

"Hey, you two," Claude suddenly called their attention back to the kitchenette. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Sure," Peter shrugged and walked over. He eyed the countless things on the counter and found a box of his favorite cookies. With a smile and a silent thanks to his mother he picked up the box…

And found it empty.

"They're all gone," he voiced incredulously and threw a dark look at Claude and the two remaining cookies in his hand.

"Sorry, mate!" The smirk on Claude's face grew wider. "First come, first served and all that."

Peter was still staring at him when Nathan came over to whisper in his ear: "Still think he's cute, Pete?"

"Shut up," Peter elbowed his brother in the side and hoped Claude hadn't heard anything. But when he finally dared to look at the Englishman again he was met by an even wider smirk than before. Claude had crossed his arms over his chest and his eyes gleamed triumphantly.

"I didn't mean you, you know? I was talking about you and Claire, how you two looked together!" Peter quickly tried to defend himself.

"I didn't say a word, mate," Claude grinned.

"Good," Peter glared and then stole the two cookies from Claude's hand. He held one out to Nathan who, after eyeing it dubiously for a second, eventually took it.

"And I'm not your mate!" Peter added after a big bite.

"We'll see about that, won't we?"

Nathan nearly choked on his cookie.

* * *

Angela and Noah talked in private for nearly half an hour. When they eventually emerged from the bedroom Angela once again said goodbye to her sons, smiled at Claire and after a final nod to Claude and Noah she left the apartment to get back into the waiting helicopter.

Noah joined the others in the kitchenette. He fetched himself another cup of coffee and placed a handful of cereals in front of him.

"Don't think they're safe there, my friend!"

"Huh?" Noah came out of his thoughts and frowned.

"Your cereals," Claude clarified. "Seems like from now on you won't have only one but two food-stealing-monsters at the breakfast table. And I'm not talking about myself here."

"What are you talking about, Claude?" Noah looked around and noticed everyone was smiling.

"He's mad because I stole back the cookies that he stole from me first," Peter tried to fill Noah in.

"Oh,"

"I'm not mad, I'm…"

Nathan tried to blend out when Claude and Peter once again started to argue. He'd had to listen to their sniping long enough for now. Instead he turned to Noah and asked:

"What did you and my mother talk about for so long?"

"That's none of your business," Noah stated rather harshly. He saw Nathan's face darken and quickly relented: "Sorry, that's not… not how I meant it," he rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed.

Nathan noticed that he looked rather sad. "Alright."

"No, look. Nathan," Noah motioned for him to follow him to the couch and the two men sat down side by side. "I think we should be able to talk openly with each other. Otherwise this whole thing won't work."

"What thing?"

"All of this. Us." Noah fixed Nathan with clear blue eyes. "Do you want to be a part of Claire's life? Do you want to get to know your daughter?"

"Of course," Nathan nodded and threw a quick glance over to where the girl in question was currently laughing at something one of her uncles had said. "If you'll let me…"

"I guess you deserve that much at last," Noah stated quietly. Nathan supposed that was the closest thing to an apology he'd ever get from this man. And he realized that it was enough. After a slight pause Noah went on: "And I guess so does Claire. She deserves to get to know her real father."

"Yeah, but…" Nathan hesitated.

"But what?"

Nathan looked back at the man by his side. Hadn't he just a few hours ago realized that this man was more like him than anyone he'd ever met before? Surely he would understand Nathan's fears, his insecurities… if he were to admit to them, that is. Nathan let out a low sigh and decided to give it a try.

"But, look… I don't know how, okay? I'm no good with kids, I just don't seem to… connect with them. I have no idea how to be a father. Let alone a good one."

"Neither had I when Claire was put into my arms for the first time," Noah smiled slightly. "You'll get the hang of it eventually."

"Yeah, well, but you got a head start of seven years on me! How am I to…" Nathan broke off again and looked at his hands in his lap.

"This isn't a competition, Petrelli! At least, it shouldn't be," Noah frowned and threw a look at his daughter. She was busy whispering something into Peter's ear and Claude was trying to pull her away. Claire clutched both hands around Peter's neck.

Noah smiled. "Look at them, Nathan. Look at your brother and Claude. Does it look like they're competing for Claire's attention?"

Nathan looked over at them just in time to see his brother grin broadly at Claude. Claude winked back and then threw a handful of cereals into Peter's stunned face.

"No," Nathan smirked, "that looks like foreplay!"

Noah looked stunned for a moment. Then he asked: "Is Peter even gay?"

"I'm not sure," Nathan shrugged. "And I guess neither is he."

"Are you jealous?" Noah asked further.

"Of Peter?"

"Of Claude!"

"No," Nathan shook his head determinedly, "are you?"

"Jealous of Claude?"

"Of Peter!"

"No," Noah shook his head as well. "Why would I be? I'm not gay!"

"Neither am I!"

"Good!"

"Good!"

Nathan broke the following silence at last. "Are you sure you're not jealous? You look rather jealous to me."

"I'm not," Noah stated again.

"Envious then?" Nathan watched Noah's face and waited for an answer. It didn't come for a long time. Instead Noah looked once again at the two men in the kitchen, fooling around and laughing as if they didn't have a care in the world.

"Perhaps I am," he whispered at last and looked back into Nathan's knowing face. Nathan nodded once and then looked at his brother again.

"Perhaps I am, too," he admitted after a while.

"Good," Noah smiled and added as an afterthought: "See, we already found something we have in common."

"And I guess that's not the only thing," Nathan stated after a while. "It seems we also happen to be the only adults in this room!"

"Hey, I heard that!" Claude suddenly shouted from the kitchenette.

"And?"

"Guess you're right!" Claude smirked and came over. Peter and Claire followed immediately and Noah suddenly had to think of two puppies following their master. Claude perched himself on the armrest on Noah's side and Peter took over the one beside Nathan. Claire hopped onto Noah's lap.

"Cause for today, my friend," Claude continued and threw an arm around Noah, "we've just decided to leave all responsibilities behind and simply be happy."

"Have you?" Noah raised an eyebrow and looked at his daughter for confirmation.

"Yes, daddy!" The small girl beamed at him. "We've decided to not think about what happened, not about our house and how to get the things back that we left behind."

"Claire, I'm sorry about…" Noah started but Claude put a hand over his mouth. "Oh no, my friend! None of that now!"

"Besides, we already have a plan on how to get your stuff back," Peter stated with a proud grin. Like he'd been the one to think of said plan, whatever it was.

"But we won't tell you until tomorrow. Today… we celebrate!" Claude smirked.

"And what do we celebrate?"

"Our escape from the bloody company, my freedom, us being finally together again…" Claude paused and grinned at Noah. "Not having to worry about money and all that rot for once…take a bloody pick, it's all fine by me!"

"About the money," Noah replied with a sidelong glance at the Petrelli brothers. "I'm not too comfortable with taking Angela's money. You see…"

"It's not hers," Peter threw in with a grin, "it's Nathan's!"

"What?" Noah frowned and Nathan immediately mimicked him. "What?"

"Mom told me right before she left. She had the trust fund you set up at Claire's birth changed so that she can have access to it right away. Or… her legal guardian actually." Peter threw Noah a quick smile before he faced Nathan again. "And she also transferred half of your inheritance to your account, after she bought all the stuff from it of course. But it's still pretty big she said."

"Huh," Nathan frowned. "What about your inheritance, Pete? Did she give it to you, too?"

"No, she said that I should save it, in case I'd need it after college. That is, if I ever finish it. She told me your half would be more than enough for us all for now."

"Of course she'd say that," Nathan tried to process this new information. Finally he looked up into his brother's grinning face and said: "Pete? Wherever we'll end up next, you're gonna have to start looking for a job, alright?"

"Shut up, Nathan!" Peter slapped him over the head and then he stood up to quickly fetch glasses and something to drink for them all. The others watched him curiously.

Finally, when everybody had a full glass in hand (Orange Juice, mind you), Peter lifted his up for a toast. "Remember, Nathan, the toast I spoke when we had that little housewarming thing a week ago?"

"Sure, Pete!"

"It fits now, too. Don't you think?" Peter smiled and then he looked at Claude and Noah, Claire and finally at his brother again and said: "To the new periods of our lives, whether they begin with committing ourselves to new places or new people. May it result in happiness for all of us, together forever. To our new patchwork family!"

"Hear, hear," Nathan smiled and Claude and Noah chimed in. Then they clinked their glasses and took a sip.

No matter what tomorrow would bring, today they'd celebrate the first day of the rest of their life… as a family.

* * *

**END OF PART TWO**

_It's done. This is all I have for now._

_I'm sorry that I didn't find a way to put any slash inside, it will all come in Part Three. If I ever manage to write that._

_To empath: I hope you liked the Peter/Claude scene as much as I liked writing it. That pairing is totally growing on me. Part Three will definitely have much of them as well._

_Please, please, comment on this._


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